


The Eagle and The Lion

by Winds81



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-28
Updated: 2017-12-08
Packaged: 2018-12-07 22:38:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 24
Words: 54,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11633406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Winds81/pseuds/Winds81
Summary: Dark artifacts go missing from Malfoy Manor, and it's up to Lucius and Hermione to track them down.  As their journey takes them overseas to the States, the question becomes not whom has taken them, but what dark plans have been set in motion?





	1. Chapter 1

Hermione tapped her fingers pensively against her oak desk, wishing not for the first time that things like ballpoint pens had filtered in to the magical world. Quills, while beautiful to look at, were not terribly as rewarding to chew on. And sugar quills, while having the benefit of no feathers to leave stuck in between teeth, were actually quite the disappointment as they melted almost as fast as they were nibbled upon. No, nothing in the magical world could quite match up to the distracting satisfaction of mutilating the end of a bic pen while trying to complete reports.

 

She strummed her fingers again, an annoying habit that had her office mate shooting daggers at her from across the room. Or, that's what she believed he or she was doing behind their mask as they kept tipping their head in her direction. She shot a remorseful look back, but knew that it, too was hidden by her own disguise. As an Unspeakable, it was hard to say what the other person was doing or thinking as they were covered from head to toe in black robes, blotting out features that might identify them, and even going so far as to obscure their voices. Hermione had no idea if the person across from her was male, or female, or if she even knew them outside of the ministry. What she was fairly certain of , however, was that they would happily remove her fingers from her hand if it would stop the infernal tapping she kept up.

 

It was an unfortunate quirk she'd developed as a teenager. A way to settle her mind even as it tried to jump ahead at warp speed. It centered her back in the here and now, and helped her form ideas into sentences that she could pass on to others through her reports. Like the one before her. How, exactly, did one explain how an inanimate clock not only took on the likeness of a person, but then tried to turn others into clocks as well? And that it only took a single touch to do so? Oh, and the only way to tell that the clock was a clock was to get close enough to look into their eyes and see the numbers around their cornea? Ah, but then the real questions – who created such an item, and how did one destroy it? Such were the queries Hermione was attempting to answer when a new, lonely missive drifted onto her desk in the middle of her scroll.

 

She paused, and stared at it. It wasn't unusual to get a new assignment. It was unusual, however, when she hadn't closed up the last one yet. She frowned briefly, then picked it up and turned it over. The stamp for the ministry of law enforcement was pressed onto the back, and she internally sighed.

 

Having chosen to go into research after the war, Hermione's experience with magical items and familiarity with it's grounds had quickly landed her a position in the Department of Mysteries. However, she'd been recruited for a specialty position that involved close work with the wizarding law enforcement department to help handle particularly odd cases. She was fairly certain at least 2 other Unspeakables shared the same designation, but couldn't be sure of the exact count. She acted as a detective of sorts, attempting to find lost artifacts, contain small skirmishes of death eaters, and generally investigate any strange sounding circumstances. It did help break up the banal research that sometimes threatened to overwhelm her time in the ministry.

 

She flipped open the missive, and raised an eyebrow at the short letter, “New case. Come at once” signed by Carius Trufeather, captain of the force. Well, this should prove interesting. She dropped her quill, and quickly swept out of the room, fairly certain she heard a sigh of relief from her office mate as she exited the door.

 

After a brief stop to change into regular clothes, she apparated to the headquarters for law enforcement and went directly to Carius's office. Stepping across the threshold, she caught her boss's eye before noting the blonde head seated across from him. A groan left her lips before she could contain it.

 

Platinum hair fairly well swished, as the older man turned his head and regarded her solemnly, “I assure you, Ms. Granger, the feeling is mutual”

 

Hermione grimaced in apology, “Sorry, Mister Malfoy. It's not you”

 

“Of course not. Hermione is always delighted to work with you,” came Carius's smooth voice from across the table. He was a tall man, lean, with dark blue eyes, close cropped brown hair and hawkish features. He gestured her in, and pointed to the open chair next to Lucius's. Hermione tried to control her expression, failing miserably, as she plopped unceremoniously into the high backed seat.

 

“I can see your manners are as on point as always,” muttered Lucius. Hermione gave him a sidelong glance.

 

“They're at least as keen as your wit” she murmured back. Carius coughed, covering his mouth with his hand, and she could swear she could see him trying to cover up a smirk.

 

“Hermione, thank you for coming on such short notice” he addressed her. She waved a hand in the air,

 

“The missive said “come at once”, so I came. Had I have known it would involve another Malfoy mystery toy I might not have been so eager” she replied. Lucius turned his grey eyes on her, narrowing them in her direction.

 

“I don't own toys, Miss Granger” he sneered. Hermione sat up straight, yanking up the sleeve to her right arm, showing a tree shaped scar burnt along the back of her forearm.

 

“Yes. I'm quite aware of exactly what you own, Malfoy” she snapped back. The older man stiffened, and made as if to gather his things to leave. She sighed, a small spear of guilt piercing her mutinous heart, and she waved at him, “Sit. I'm not going anywhere. We've done this before”

 

He eyed her warily for a moment, and then let out an annoyed huff before sitting back down. Carius passed his eyes between the two of them, as if trying to measure out their sincerity at working together.

 

“Very well,” he began, “Hermione, Mr. Malfoy here has reported some artifacts missing from his home. They are quite dangerous, and very dark. We would like you to help him track them down and return them to either his house, or the Department of Mysteries as necessary”

 

Hermione tipped her head to the side, turning to face Lucius fully for the first time, “Missing?” she asked. She had assisted the patriarch in the past with a few items that he'd requested removed from his house, and even helped eliminate a few curses left behind as presents from Voldemort in the Manor. However, she knew that he actually had very tight security on those items that were most dangerous to handle, and was surprised to hear that something may have gone awry.

 

His gaze was cool and level as he looked back at her, nodding succinctly, “I believe you remember the stuffed bear that sat on the pedestal in the dungeons?” She shivered – the damned thing watched you as you walked through the room, even going to far as to turn it's head to follow you.

 

“Unfortunately, yes”

 

“It has gone missing. As have a mirror, a watch, and two hair combs” Hermione furrowed her brow.

 

“I don't remember any hair combs”

 

“Well, apparently Narcissa didn't think it prudent to lock them up. They were out in her jewelery box, which was pilfered. I suspect they were incidental, though will make for a very...unfortunate gift” he replied. Hermione grimaced.

 

“Do you have any idea whom might have taken them?” she asked. Lucius shook his head, a disconcerted look on his face.

 

“I do not entertain much anymore,” he replied, “Though I did have a small personal party late last week. Perhaps someone snuck in while the wards were down. At any rate, I did not discover the missing artifacts until just this morning”

 

“Bugger” she muttered. A full four or five days since they'd gone missing meant they could very well be anywhere, “Well, let's start at the scene. I'd like a list of the persons who were at your Manor over the last week as well, please”

 

Lucius nodded again and rose from his seat, Hermione joining him at the door. She glanced over her shoulder at Carius, whom warned “Keep me appraised of everything”

 

“Of course. And if you don't hear from me in 24 hours, assume Malfoy has had enough and start searching the Manor for my body” she called back cheerfully. She couldn't be sure, but she was fairly certain that she heard the blonde man chuckle as he took her elbow and apparated them away.

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

Hermione stumbled on the first step of the entrance to Malfoy Manor, as always. She suspected that Lucius deposited them there for exactly that reason, but she never complained or made any noise. Any reaction was enough reaction for the Malfoy men. She did, however, shoot him a glare from the side of her eye, and brushed off her dark trousers before trotting down the remaining 4 steps into the foyer.

 

The expansive mansion had been redone since the war. Long gone were the dark wallpapers and oppressive masonry facades. They'd been replaced with light beiges, blues, and even a hint of gold – not that either Malfoy would ever admit to choosing that color. Much of the furniture that had previously adorned the different rooms had been discarded as well, trading heavy masculine mahoganies for lighter oaks and pines. Hermione knew, from her interactions with Draco, that both men were interested in moving on from that part of their lives and the redecoration was part of the exorcism of literal and figurative demons from their home.

 

As she passed the drawing room, a booming, cheerful voice called out to her, “Miss Granger! Back so soon?” She paused, and smiled, peering her head inside before crossing the threshold.

 

“Well, I just couldn't stay away from your charming wit for another day, Mister Malfoy” she replied, smiling up at the large portrait on the far wall. A deep laugh was her response, and she wished not for the first time that should could hug the elder man. In a twist that surprised not only Draco and Lucius, but herself as well, it turned out that Hermione and Abraxas Malfoy had developed a very cordial and close friendship, even if it was from beyond the grave.

 

“And what brings you here this time, my dear? I would say it's safe to assume you were not invited simply for afternoon tea”, a small twinkle developed in the corner of the portrait's eye. Hermione stifled a giggle, well aware that the stately, and more importantly alive, Malfoy was lingering at the door.

 

“Ah, sadly, I believe Lucius has forgotten his manners in your absence,” she goaded, feeling the gaze of two steel eyes burning into the back of her head, “I am, as always, here for work”

 

“I see,” sighed Abraxas, “Well, the best way to control the boy was always by taking away his broom and telling him he couldn't fly until he behaved himself”

 

This time Hermione did laugh, shoulders shaking at the idea of taking away Lucius Malfoy's broom and admonishing him he couldn't have it back until he invited her – politely – over for afternoon tea and civil conversation. Abraxas shared a grin with her, and then waved her on, “Don't forget to stop by before you leave!” Hermione nodded, and saluted the man mockingly before turning to rejoin with her host.

 

Lucius's expression was unreadable, and Hermione had to work to hide the grin that threatened to break loose. He huffed as the corner of her lip turned up, and she couldn't control the bubble of laughter that slipped through her lips as they continued down the hall towards the stairwell to the dungeons. She heard a repeated huff of irritation as they continued on their journey, and just barely managed to control her giggles and face as they passed through the doorway into the heavily warded room where most of the dark relics the Malfoys owned were kept.

 

She sobered up immediately as the atmosphere shifted inside, and a cold chill crawled down her spine. Something was very wrong. She turned to look at Lucius, and found his gaze already on her, waging her response.

 

“That's...unsettling” she said softly, the urge to keep her voice down pressing upon her.

 

“Agreed. It has felt like this since I discovered the objects missing” he replied in an equally controlled voice. Hermione looked around, examining the room. It was quite large, taking up most of the basement of the Manor with arching stone walls, and muted candelabra lighting. The pedestal that held the stuffed bear sat mockingly empty in the middle of the room, a single light directly above it. Cautiously she approached it, waving her hand in the area between the base and the light. She could hear Lucius suck in a sharp breath behind her, and utter a muffled curse. Most of the spells used to protect the relics were designed to repel, but a few were much nastier and could inflict significant pain to deter potential bandits.

 

She frowned – no sign of any wards at all. It was as if they had never been placed – which she knew, beyond a reasonable doubt, they had been at least a week prior. “Would you....Stop doing that?” gritted Lucius as she walked to the next empty alcove, where the mirror had been, and ran her hand through it as well. She raised a speculative eye at him.

 

“Concerned for me, Mr Malfoy? I'm touched” she replied, allowing a small amount of mocking into her voice. He huffed once more.

 

“I am more concerned about how to explain the lack of limbs to your boss” he grumbled back. Hermione flashed a brief grin at him. She knew that it was more than that. Not that she had any belief that he had great, untapped feelings trapped below the surface for her. They had, over the course of many months, found that they worked quite well together and developed a mutal respect for one another's talents and knowledge. They hadn't quite created a friendship, but affectionate acquaintance was perhaps the best description. She knew that in a pinch he would come to her aide, and the idea of her becoming injured appealed to him as much as the idea of him becoming injured appealed to her.

 

After exploring the last alcove, much to the grand irritation of the older man, she grasped her wand and waved it in a series of complex movements. Pink light suffused the air, and a sickly green color settled at the corners of the room. Her lips turned down, and she scowled at the results. “Bloody, buggering hell” she muttered. Lucius coughed and she looked back at him, “Well, for starters whomever did this isn't a local. And they've placed a nasty hex on the room to prevent us from finding out who they are”

 

“Do you have any idea from where their signature arises?” asked Lucius. She shook her head.

 

“I suspect they're American, from the States” she clarified, “Some of the magic residue is reminiscent of what I saw while visiting Ilvermorny. But there are some traces that appear to be darker, possibly eastern European”

 

Lucius hummed, thoughtful, “I can assure you, none of my guests were either American nor eastern European descent”

 

She nodded, and then grimaced again. The hex laid was an ugly one, and would be quite taxing to remove. “I'm probably going to need your help with this” He nodded, and was at her side immediately with his wand out. Hermione let out a controlled breath, and swished her wand again, bracing for whatever was to come next.

 

What did come, and what she didn't expect was the maniacal laughter of one Bellatrix Lestrange, filtering up as if it was coming through the stones themselves, winding itself around the entire room. Hermione's muscles tensed unconsciously, and she dug her fingernails into the palm of her left hand to keep her grounded in the here and now, and not take her back to times best not remembered. The lights in the room dimmed, and there was a sound like parchment running rough across the floor towards them.

 

“Nagini” she heard Lucius breathe out, and she leaned towards him, touching her shoulder to his to remind him both where and when they were. She shivered as she felt something touch her lower legs, twining between them. Logically, she knew that there was nothing there. Illogically, her brain immediately conjured up terrifying visions of the long dead serpent Voldemort had kept as a familiar. She could feel the shudder of the older Malfoy next to her, knowing he was experiencing the same thing.

 

“It's coming” she whispered, feeling the surge of magic rolling across the room towards them. Her left arm became ablaze with pain suddenly, and she clamped her mouth shut, trying to hold in the sharp cry that wanted to work it's way out. If she was screaming, she couldn't cast the spells. She felt Malfoy grab her right upper arm, and she passed him a grateful look as he stabilized her. She lifted her wand as the darkness around the room coalesced and surged at them – to Hermione it looked like Bellatrix raising her wand and rushing at her, “Reducto! Finite Incantatem! Evansceto perpetuo!” their combined counters spells rang out in unison.

 

The gloom crashed down around their feet, and then broke apart, scattering away like marbles that disappeared in the light. There was a brief moment of silence, and then the room lit up again, free of the macabre atmosphere. Hermione stood, panting in exertion, before the pain of her arm took over again. She gritted her teeth, but was unable to fully control the wail that tore up out of her core.

 

Her right hand trembled as she slipped her wand back into it's holster, before pressing it against the scars that marked her left arm. She tried to pull in air, but the muscles around her ribs constricted, preventing her from breathing. She dropped to her knees, groaning, head falling forward as the tears collected at the corners of her eyes. The tremors shuddered through her entire body, helpless to stop the oncoming storm.

 

And then hands grabbed her shoulder, and she did scream at the agony of their contact, unable to control herself anymore. The nails of her left hand dug deeper into her palm, blood dripping onto the floor. Grey eyes swam in front of hers, and she felt her jaw pried open as a potion was poured down her throat. Coughing, she slurped as much as she could, counting down the seconds until she knew her nerve endings would no longer be on fire. Slowly, with the metronome of a clock in the background, she felt the spasms begin to abate, and the pain begin to recede from her limbs, fading last from the old scars on her arm. She gulped in air, wiping hot tears from her face, finally focusing her own eyes on Lucius's concerned gaze.

 

“I'm ok” she whispered. He framed her face with his hands, looking closely at her eyes, and then the rest of her face. His lips thinned as he focused on her nose, and she noted she felt a small trickle headed towards her lips. Bloody nose then, she internally groaned. He continued his perusal, looking at both arms. His eyes landed on her left hand, and with a gentle touch he opened her fist. The half moon shaped lesions were already beginning to knit themselves back together, leaving the familiar scars in their place. He squeezed her hand gently for a moment before releasing her.

 

As she regained her faculties, she looked over Lucius as well. He had a welt at the side of his face, but otherwise appeared no worse for the wear. She knew, however, that some injuries were hidden inside and may take their toll just as thoroughly. She reached over to him, and ran her own hand across his forehead above the injury. He flinched a little, but shook his head. A lifetime of exposure to all sorts of misery had created a complex internal compartmentalization system that allowed Lucius to hide most of his ills. Hermione had been one of the few to see the cracks beneath the surface as they'd cleared the house of similar hexes and curses, but she would never speak of it. Everyone had their demons. Some of them were even branded on skin.

 

He silently extended his hand to help her stand again, and she gratefully took it. They staggered back out of the dungeon, and up the stairs, mood less bouyant than when they had entered. As they re-entered the hall, Hermione could hear a voice yelling for them.

 

“We're fine, father”Lucius called back. They staggered back into the drawing room, and Hermione collapsed on the queen anne couch while Lucius plopped into the large recliner across from her. A small smile played at her lips as she looked at him, but before she could tease him about manners a worried voice above her head asked:

 

“Was that Miss Granger I heard screaming?” She looked up at the concerned visage, and nodded affirmatively.

 

“It was a nasty hex. Brought up some ugly old faces, and affected scars caused by dark magic” she responded, trying to keep her tone light. The truth was, the hex was only half of it. She'd had relapses of the Cruciatus curse for years after the war. It didn't happen often, but it was unpredictable as to what would bring it on. Perhaps a word, or the way the firelight flickered against the wall, or the way someone laughed. It always started as fine tremors in her hands, and then blossomed out to full body shivering, before the pain hit like fiendfyre and spread from her scar out along the rest of her body. She'd gone for the first several years with no way to treat it, just having to ride out the paroxysms which could last from minutes to hours.

 

It was, ironically, when she'd started working with Lucius that she'd finally found a way to control them. She'd been in the drawing room one day, conversing with Abraxas when the tremors first started. She'd turned her head and seen a shadow shift along the wall, and her right hand started to shake. That time, the relapse had progressed quickly and she'd been on the floor, teeth gritted, palms fisted, with blood seeping from between her fingers before she could even count to 10. That's how Draco had found her, at the urgent criess of his grandfather. He'd gone to grab her, and she could hold back the screams no longer as his fingers touched her skin, which brought in Lucius. Lucius had taken one look at her, and immediately grabbed a vial from within the folds of his robes and forced it down her throat. The pain had abated, almost as quickly as it had come, and since then he'd been sure to provide her with regular deliveries. So long as she took it at the first sign of trembling, it would not progress any further. If she waited, either on purpose or because of other commitments, she would either have to wait it out or would have to have someone else give the potion to her.

 

“Are you alright?” asked a new voice from the doorway. Hermione lifted her head, seeing Draco hovering in the door, his face worried. Flopping back down she waved a hand at him.

 

“I'll be fine. Thankfully, Lucius was there to help” she replied, the praise rolling off her tongue without additional thought. She missed the look Draco and Abraxas passed between each other, and the accompanying sneer that Lucius developed towards both of them.

 

“Abraxas,” Hermione started from her supine position, “Did you happen to see any of Lucius's guest come this way the other night?”

 

Cool blue eyes assessed her before answering, “I did see seven guests enter, but I must admit – I don't know where they all went from here”

 

Lucius straightened, “Seven? I only invited six people over”

 

Hermione lifted her head again, “Six? You're sure?”

 

He gave her a look as if she were a daft child, and nodded, “The Parkinsons including Pansy, Mrs. Zabini, and the older Notts. Six in total” he confirmed. Hermione sat up, thoughts tumbling as she absently wiped the blood from beneath her nose with her sleeve. So, someone had slipped in while the wards were down. Which means they would have slipped out as well.

 

“Abraxas, did you get a good look at anyone?” she asked. A regretful look passed over him,

 

“Unfortunately, my dear, my position here doesn't allow me a good vantage point for visitors. I can only confirm that there were seven persons whom entered at that time”

 

She smiled pacifyingly at him, “I understand. Knowing there was a seventh visitor is still a great lead”

 

Draco cleared his throat, “Well, I suppose this might be of help too. This was brought to my attention at work today” In the years after the war Draco had initially gone through Auror training, but was later drafted to the International Wizarding Affairs office, where he acted as a legal liason with other countries around the world in a fashion similar to the CIA or an MI6 agent. He laid a copy of the Eagle Post, the United States version of the Daily Prophet, on the coffee table in front of them, and Lucius and Hermione leaned over to get a look. On the front page was a moving picture of a body being removed from a house, with a headline about a woman being killed by her hair comb. Lucius grimaced, and Hermione rubbed her hand down her face.

 

“Well, it looks like we're going to the States”

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

It took a little over 24 hours for Hermione to secure the appropriate permits to travel abroad. While Carius had initially been hesitant to allow her to travel with a civilian, she'd pointed out that not only was he a fully capable wizard in his own right and able to decipher authentic from replicas of the objects they were looking for, but there was a good chance that only a Malfoy would be able to safely handle them. And while she wouldn't say it out loud, Lucius was actually the only person she trusted enough to do this roundup mission without accidentally kill her in the process. Dubiously, her boss had approved their plans to head overseas, with an admonition that he would expect regular reports and a warning that he would “Be watching them”.

 

Currently, they sat in Draco's office as he went over the details of their paperwork and their expected American liaison. On the desk were various technicalities including passports, money and a golden star paperweight that was to act as their portkey.

 

“Find a way to keep your passports on you at all time. The States aren't a third world country, but some areas are only slightly better. Fortunately, Galleons transfer across the pond, but I've converted some money into American dollars as well in case you find yourself in a muggle only area. I'd hate for you to starve” he smirked. Hermione rolled her eyes, a small smile flickering across her lips, “Your contact is named Mason Boulder, and yes, he's aware of how ridiculous his name sounds. He is, however, an excellent agent and someone I trust to keep both of you alive. Your portkey is scheduled for 10 minutes from now. Do you have any questions?”

 

They both shook their heads, and Draco nodded before the professional face slipped and worry creased his brow. Hermione stood up and squeezed one of his hands. She'd been working with Draco on various cases for years, and they'd had enough private encounters both on and off hours for her to have developed respect for him in both capacities. He gave her a comforting expression, and he squeezed back before letting go. “Off the record, I'm glad it's you two going. But, please, be careful. If anything goes wrong...” he trailed off.

 

Lucius stood, and shook his head, clasping his son on the shoulder “We'll be fine, Draco”

 

The younger man didn't look convinced, but placed their documents into a folder that he handed to Hermione. She slipped it into her extendable bag, and slid the strap across her body, before looking at her companion, “Ready?”

 

He hummed, and shrugged, “As I'll ever be, I suppose” She rolled her eyes and grabbed the star then, offering the other half to him. Upon he touching it, it began to glow, and the sensation of being sucked through a straw grabbed onto her midsection.

 

As they landed, Hermione held one hand out to the side to help gain her bearings. She groaned as her stomach churned, and she clamped the other hand over her mouth, trying not to empty the contents of her breakfast all over the floor. Lucius, on the other hand, landed as if he'd never even left the London office and simply brushed off his shirt. She narrowed her eyes at him and muttered, “Prat” around her fingers. His gaze tightened minisculely back at her, and then he smirked and reached his right hand out over her head.

 

“Mr. Boulder, I presume? Lucius Malfoy” he introduced himself smoothly. Hermione's brows lifted, and she straightened immediately as she turned to see their intermediary.

 

“Please, call me Mason” came the response, and Hermione felt her mouth go a little dry. Mason Boulder was the epitome of All-American playboy, and she was suddenly glad for Lucius's impeccable manners allowing her a moment to gather her brain. Tall, broad shouldered, sandy blonde hair with a square jaw, light hazel eyes, and freaking dimples, she found herself immediately curious if what was under his clothes was just as attractive as what she could see out of them. That thought, of course, left her blushing a little, and she stuck out her own hand to shake.

 

“I, uh, Hermione Granger” she could feel, more than see, Lucius's eyes on her. Damned Slytherins.

 

Mason smiled back, showing perfectly straight white teeth, and shook her hand firmly, “I've heard a lot about you. Draco is quite impressed by you. Though, he'd kill me if he knew I told you” She laughed a little, inwardly groaning at the high pitch to her voice. Worse, she could hear Lucius chuckle and knew it was not at what Mason had said.

 

“Well, the feeling is more or less returned” she replied. Mason nodded and clapped his hands together,

 

“So, I guess on to business. I understand you two are here seeking some lost items?”

 

Lucius nodded then, and pulled out some pictures from a pocket, “Correct. These were recently stolen from my family home. They are, ah, heirlooms of sorts. And could be quite dangerous in the wrong hands” he hedged. Mason nodded, and exchanged a knowing look with the older Malfoy.

 

“Draco has informed me of their, shall we say, history? He has told me some of what your family endured in the last decade. It is safe to say, I would be happy to help get these out of the States as fast as possible”

 

“Yes, well, the problem is the only lead we have is on the combs” responded Hermione, “Which I believe were here, in New York City?”

 

“Yes, fortunately. We'll start locally. There are a couple places we can ask around and see if we get any leads. Though, I must warn you, they're not the most savory of locations. Perhaps, not quite as safe as some of the institutions you're used to?” he hedged, looking at Hermione enquiringly. There was a beat of silence, and Lucius suddenly burst out into laughter. She turned and pinioned the older blonde with a deadly look, but it did nothing to quell his mirth.

 

“I assure you, Mr. Boulder, I can handle my own” she responded, shifting back to Mason. He grinned at her again, though this time the effect was somewhat lessened by the fact that her abilities had just been called into question.

 

“You Brits and your damned politeness. Just tell me to fuck off the next time I insult you. It'd be more effective”

 

Hermione felt herself relax a little, and gave a small grin back, “Trust me, if you ever truly insult me, you'll know”

 

“Now isn't that the truth” muttered Lucius, and she rolled her eyes before turning to him again.

 

“It's been less than 5 minutes, and I'm already regretting bringing you along”

 

Amusement flashed in his eyes as he replied, “And yet, thus far, this has been worth the price of admission”

 

Mason looked between the two of them, hazel eyes flickering curiously back and forth. Whatever he saw, he nodded to himself, and his expression cleared, “Let me take you to your quarters, first. You'll be staying at a hotel near Central Park”

 

“Separate rooms, I presume?” clarified Lucius. Hermione huffed this time, pureblood politeness once again rearing it's annoying head. Mason had the good graces to look a little embarrassed as he rubbed the back of his head,

 

 

“Actually, no. Though, it is a suite so there are separate sleeping areas. But we could not secure two separate rooms” he responded with a chagrined look. Lucius's face became very quiet.

 

“I see” was his response.

 

“Don't worry, Malfoy. I only leave my undergarments about after I've been drinking a lot” she replied cheerily. His look was murderous, but Mason laughed again and gave her an appreciative look.

 

“With any luck, you won't even be here long enough to use the room” he paused, and then waggled his eyebrows, “Or maybe you will”

 

As it turned out, the suite was huge and there was ample room to avoid each other if desired. The bedrooms were on opposite sides of the accommodation, with a large living area and small kitchen separating them. The only annoyance Hermione could find was that there was only a single bathroom, which meant they would need to take turns getting ready in the morning. And while her abulations were not terribly complex, she'd been informed by Draco that his father took almost as long to get ready as his mother used to.

 

She dropped her bags onto the bed in the smaller of the two rooms, having turned Lucius down when he'd tried to give her the master bedroom. A queen sized bed was adequate for her, and she didn't particularly like sleeping in large rooms as it often made her feel exposed and vulnerable. Hold over from the war, smaller was safer.

 

After securing her affects, she crossed the living room and opened the sliding glass to step out onto the balcony overlooking central park. A rush of hot, humid air hit her and she made a face at the mid-summer heat of Manhattan. It did little to dampen her enthusiasm, however, as she'd always wanted to visit the iconic city. She had visited the states a few times as a child with her parents, going to places like Disneyworld and the Grand Canyon, but had never had the opportunity to explore the northeast. She leaned over the edge, peering down at the masses of people, and cars, and activity below.

 

A throat clearing next to her made her aware of Lucius's arrival, and she looked up at him, an earnest look on her face that he responded to with a small smile of his own. She noted he looked slightly uncomfortable, likely because of his discomfort in this weather with his typical english attire. Without thinking she cast a wandless cooling charm on his shirt, and his smile deepened, becoming more genuine.

 

“Ready?” he asked. She nodded, following him back through the apartment and on to their first stop.

 


	4. Chapter 4

Mason met them in the lobby of their building, leading them briskly out and across the street into the hubbub of Central Park. Hermione noticed Lucius flinch as they exited the plush hotel, the normal sounds of muggle city life crashing down upon them. She hadn't realized how loud her native world was until she'd spent time in the wizarding world where there were no cars, no buses, no horns or constantly pinging phones. It was quite the sensory overload even for herself when she visited her birthplace, but she imagined for someone who'd never been subjected to it it would be even worse.

 

Mason kept up a lively pace as he moved them through Central Park, and Hermione felt close to jogging a few times which meant that her skin had become flushed and she was sweating by the time they'd arrived at their initial destination. She tipped her head to the side, inspecting the squat, brick building in front of them. Between the columns she could see the brightly colored horses, firmly attached to their brass poles, racing endlessly around as children cried in both joy and fear. Mason shot them both a quick grin, before leading them up to the paybooth.

 

“Three for the behind the scenes private tour” he requested, dropping a galleon on the counter. The older woman picked it up, turned it in her hands, and nodded succinctly.

 

“Please go around to the left, and meet your tour guide at the third column” she replied. Mason waved at her, maneuvering them through the throngs of people until they arrived at their meeting place. As the carousel slowed to a stop, a short, dark skinned gentleman beckoned them over. They slipped between the painted ponies, and he opened the door to the mechanical room at the center. Mason muttered a few words, and then stepped across the threshold.

 

As Hermione followed, she was completely delighted to step out onto a busy, brownstone lined city street. Whereas the wizarding world in England often felt as if it hailed back to the 17th century, New York appeared firmly entrenched in the mid 1900s. Converted early Fords, Chevrolets and Cadillacs traversed the streets, intermingling with older horse-drawn carriages as they navigated the narrow thoroughways. Along both sides of the route, young boys and girls ran about hawking wares such as the Eagle Post, pastries and various knick knacks. Women were adorned in well tailored dresses ranging from drop waisted to utility style, while the men wore button up shirts and suspenders or pin striped suits. The main road stretched out before them between private residences before opening up into several avenues that were lined with businesses ranging from bookstores to boutiques.

 

“Welcome to Freedom Lane” greeted Mason, and Hermione repressed her desire to squeel and bounce on her toes. Next to her she heard a muffled snort from Lucius, no doubt at the very typically American name, but she was determined not to let him affect her mood, “We'll start here. The woman who was killed by the combs was found just up ahead on the left. I figure we'll check out her place first, and then move on to see if we can find any information”

 

Hermione nodded mutely, keeping close to their escort as he made his way through the crowd. She didn't worry about their other companion, as crowds tended to part naturally around him and here it appeared to be no different. She doubted that it was due to his reputation, as the Malfoy name was not particularly well known in the States. No, Lucius's height, stature and bearing were intimidating to those who did, and even even most of those who didn't, know him well and people just tended to avoid him rather than invite conflict.

 

They turned to enter the door of a narrow brick residence to their left, trotting up three stairs and ducking under some caution tape before stepping into the entry foyer. Hermione peered admiringly at the home, not surprised to see that the inside had been magically expanded to be larger than it appeared on the outside. Within, it was a three story building, with an entry foyer and a living room for entertaining immediately off to the right. Directly ahead, there was a corridor traveling to the left of a set of wooden stairs, that ended in the barely visible kitchen and a doorway that she assumed opened into their dining area. The walls were covered in wall paper and wooden paneling, in sharp contrast to more modern homes. She glanced up, noting the stairs curled around to the next landing about 10 feet above her head.

 

The sound of feet tromping down the the stairs surprised her, but a glance at Mason told her he was expecting someone. Directly behind her she could feel Lucius shift his weight, however, and knew he was balancing himself in case of a surprise attack. She placed her own hand on her waist, hovering above her wand holster, just in case.

 

Sharp black shoes and a navy blue suit preceded a salt and pepper head, and their new associate gave them an easy grin as he trotted down the last few stairs, “Mason!” he boomed, reaching out his hand towards the american. Mason shook it firmly, and the gentleman turned towards the brits, “Stanley Cromwell. Lead homicide detective on the case”

 

Hermione absently wondered if the American law enforcement agencies drew their applicants from film or modeling agencies as she reached out her hand to shake Stanley's. He was shorter than both Mason and Lucius, and leaner, but had high cheekbones, with a straight nose and sharp jawline. His lips were well defined, and laugh lines framed his brilliantly blue eyes, “Hermione Granger, detective from Magical Law Enforcement”

 

His expression was welcoming and friendly as he took her hand in a firm shake, and then he looked above her head. She took a step to her left to allow Malfoy to greet the man as well, “And this is my colleague, Lucius Malfoy”

 

They seemed to size each other up for a moment, and Hermione got the distinct impression that their own handshake was much stronger and longer than her own. Men, and their bloody egos.

 

“So, are we clear to see the scene?” asked Mason. Stanley nodded affirmatively.

 

“It's the first bedroom on the second landing. Cleanup crews haven't been through yet, so you can't miss it”

 

Hermione grimaced, she really was not a huge fan of blood. She could handle it, of course, but she'd seen a lot of blood, dismemberment and death in her lifetime, and preferred to avoid it if possible. She felt Lucius squeeze her left shoulder, and the two other gentlemen shared a look that she recognized immediately. It was the look many men had sent her way over the years. The one that said they would protect the feeble woman from her overwhelming, hysterical emotions. Apparently Lucius saw it was well, because she heard a soft, but derisive snort from behind and above her head. There had to be something to be said for a former Death Eater having faith in your talents, and iron stomach.

 

“Hermione, if you don't want to go up there-” started Mason. Hermione held up her right hand, palm outward towards him.

 

“Mason, if you're going to question my delicate sensibilities every time we go somewhere, this investigation is going to take a lot longer and be a lot less pleasant for all of us” she responded in a firm, controlled tone, “I'm not sure how much Draco has told you about us, but I was fighting in a war before I even had my license to apparate. I do not relish the sight of blood, but I'm not going to run screaming either”

 

Lucius shifted behind her, and she could almost feel his smirk above her head. Mason and Stanley both regarded her quietly again, and she idly wondered what house they would have been sorted into at Hogwarts. Stanley nodded then, and beckoned them to follow him.

 

The stairs were relatively steep, and the turn gave them an unbalanced tilt, causing a queasy feeling as they ascended. There appeared to be two bedrooms on the first landing, but they passed them by with no further investigation as they continued to the third floor. Immediately, Hermione could see the crimson stain on the carpeted floor and inwardly sighed. Damned Malfoys and their toys.

 

She struck out ahead of the others as she followed the long trail – like someone was dragged or was dragging themselves she realized – into the bedroom. It was relatively small, and dimly lit with yellow and black fleur de lis wallpaper and gray lace curtains dangling over the large window at the front of the building. Along the wall directly opposite the front door was a full sized bed shoved into the corner, vanity table with a large oval mirror at it's foot. On the other side of the room were two bookshelves filled to the brim, and beneath window at the front was a reclining bench for reading. She entered the room cautiously, attempting to avoid the large, still damp puddle of blood on the nondescript rug in the middle of the floor.

 

Lucius entered directly behind her, wand held loosely down at this side. He strode over to the vanity, and looked into the open jewelery box, frowning at it's contents, “Misters Boulder and Cromwell?” he called out. The two gentlemen poked their heads in the door, and Lucius pointed at an item,

 

“The twin comb to the one that killed your citizen is in here. I can confirm, it was my wife's” he informed them, “May I retrieve it?”

 

Cromwell gestured at him,”Please. We've already processed the room, you shouldn't disturb anything” Lucius nodded and palmed the small object, before looking at Hermione. She joined him and flickered her wand over the comb.

 

It was a lovely, unassuming object made of out tortoise-shell with an abalone shell flower at the top of it. She turned a quizzical eye at Lucius, “It was spelled so that only a Malfoy can wear it. It will kill anyone else who tries to by digging into their brain” he answered her wordless question. She knew her next expression was one of horror, followed by disgust and a shake of the head.

 

“I wish I could say I'm even surprised” she muttered. He didn't bother to respond or even offer an apology. There were a number of objects she'd discovered in the Manor that were deceptively beautiful and dangerous in even parts, and could have easily been picked up by the wrong person on accident.

 

The signature picked up was different from the one in the Malfoy dungeons. This one was distinctly American, and blue in color, but it had a yellow trail that lead to a section of wall across the room. Both Brits turned to look at it, though Lucius beat her there. His expression became carefully controlled, even as his color paled. She craned her head around his arm to see what he was looking at, and felt bile build up in the back of her throat.

 

“Mason” she croaked. The other man was behind her in a second, filling the cramped room to the brim. Lucius couldn't bring himself to turn his head away from the wall, but he pointed wordlessly.

In the soft light that sifted through the closed curtains, there was a black fleur de lis that had been maimed, and replaced on the wall. Rather than than the 3 petaled lily, was a crude outline of a skull with a snake slithering out through it's mouth.

 

He looked at it closely, and then back at his companions, clearly not sure of what he was looking at, “Do you recognize this symbol?”

 

Lucius nodded mutely, but Hermione replied in a hushed tone, “It's the dark mark. It was the sign of Vol..Voldemort and his followers”

 

She could see Mason and Stanley share a sharp, surprised look, “Are you sure?”

 

At this, Lucius seemed to snap back to life, and he glared at the younger man before grasping his left sleeve and shoving it up pointedly. The faded mark still stood out against his pale skin, empty eyes mocking them as he snapped, “Yes, Mr. Boulder. I am quite sure”

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

It was very quiet as the four investigators sat around their lunch table, morosely contemplating the events of the last hour. There had been no hexes laid at the home, so no further work was required by Hermione or Lucius. For all intents and purposes, it appeared as if the combs had actually been given as a truly unfortunate gift. The question that lingered still unanswered was whom had altered the wallpaper – the giftor or the giftee?

 

“I think” started Stanley, breaking the silence, “that you two should tell us a bit more about this dark mark”

 

Hermione and Lucius exchanged a glance, before she responded, “Alright, what exactly would you like to know?”

 

Mason cleared his throat, “Who was Valtemard?” Hermione couldn't help but chuckle a little at the butchered pronunciation, perversely in light of the man in question's obsession over his own alias.

 

Lucius replied before she could, “You might want to narrow it down a bit. The answer to that question alone could fill a book”

 

“One? Probably more like seven. And then an epilogue” quipped Hermione. Lucius gave her a reproachful look, though a small smile played at his lips, and turned back to the other gentlemen.

 

“Alright then, tell us the highlight reel” replied Stanley. Hermione's brow crinkled, as she tried to gather her thoughts.

 

“Lord Voldemort was a half blood who believed in magical supremacy over muggles” she started. At Stanley's confused expression she explained, “I believe you refer to them as No-Majs here”

 

“His real name was Tom Marvolo Riddle, and he was a cunning, malicious bastard who wanted to wipe out the magically and non-magically inclined muggle population” took over Lucius, “He was quite charismatic, and was able to talk a number of influential pureblood families into taking up his cause. He described it as the muggles were stealing magic from purebloods, and using it to their advantage”

 

Mason scoffed, “That's ridiculous. You can't steal magic”

 

Hermione cleared her throat, “Yes, well, sometimes when you're young and disaffected, it just takes one person saying the right thing at the right time to make you feel like the whole world is against you. Whether he was right, or wrong, he recruited a massive following”

 

“Twice, actually. He was theoretically dead in between” answered Lucius to their confused look, “Which is a whole story in and of itself. As you can imagine, with such drastically differing ideologies, it lead to a rift within our society”

 

“And a rift lead to war. I won't bore you with the details, but in the end, Voldemort was defeated, and his followers disbanded and rounded up” continued Hermione.

 

“Most of them” interjected Lucius, “Though, there are a good number still unaccounted for”

 

Stanley frowned, and then gestured at Lucius's arm, “So what about this dark mark, then? Where did it come from?”

Hermione puffed out a breath, and Lucius glanced at her once before continuing, “As it turns out, lunacy can easily turn into sadism. Voldemort's followers were referred to as Death Eaters and we....We were branded with his mark. He used it as a communication tool – usually to call us to himself, or call himself to us. It was also left in the sky above locations where he had killed people, a way to frighten the masses”

 

Mason's expression turned dark, “So, you mean to say, you were one of these Death Eaters?” Lucius nodded in the affirmative, and Mason turned to scowl at Hermione.

 

“And what about yourself?” She chewed on her lower lip before turning to Lucius. He nodded approvingly. She rolled up her own left sleeve, the ugly,purple scar spelling out 'mudblood' standing above her otherwise clear skin.

 

“I was...AM a muggle” she replied simply. Stanley's eyebrows raised towards his hairline, and Mason looked back and forth between the two of them rapidly.

 

“So, how did this...?” Mason gesticulated between the two of them.

 

“As it turns out, while the ideology of only pureblood wizards and witches ruling the magical world sounds wonderful to a pompous youth, putting it into practice is a rather gruesome task. Especially when your master wasn't speaking in parables but actually meant he wanted to exterminate all non-pureblood magical and non-magical persons. It only takes watching one or two tortures and murders to change your appetite” responded Lucius, blandly.

 

“Lucius defected late in the war, once he could protect his family. After, he worked with the Wizengamot – our judicial system – to identify and put away the worst Death Eaters and find help for those whom had been coerced” replied Hermione, “His home was commandeered during the war by Voldemort. I have been helping him remove the physical and magical presence left behind”

 

Mason crossed his arms across his chest and leaned back in his chair, regarding the two Brits. Hermione returned his stare, taking a sip of the ale she'd ordered. Her right hand tremored as she placed the mug back down, and Lucius looked at her sharply. Sighing, she reached into her bag and pulled out the potion.

 

“What's that?” asked Stanley. Hermione pulled a face at the taste of the liquid.

 

“It's a potion to control some side effects of the war” she hedged, putting the empty flask back in her bag.

 

“Side effects?” asked Mason. Lucius shifted in his chair. Hermione knew that her torture in his house was one of the few topics of conversation that truly unsettled him,

 

“Have you ever heard of the Cruciatus curse?” she asked. Both Americans looked at her aghast, “So, I understand it's considered banned here as well?” They nodded, “I was unfortunately subjected to it several times. It has some... unsavory residual effects. The potion helps control them”

 

Stanley scowled again, looking back at Lucius as if he blamed him for everything that had happened, “So explain to me exactly HOW your objects ended up on our shores again?”

 

“That is the question we would all like to find out,” he responded, smoothly, accustomed to the accusation.

 

“So, what do these objects do?” asked Mason, his expression guarded.

 

“There are five objects in total that were stolen from my home. The ones of most importance were a mirror, a watch, and a stuffed bear. The mirror allows one to see anyone they know, in any place, at any time. They cannot see someone they've never met, but if they handler seen you even once they just need to speak your name and you will appear in the mirror” replied Lucius carefully.

 

“The watch is a time turner of sorts. Not a true time turner, but once pressed it turns back time by 30 seconds. However, even if time is reset, your wounds are not. Whatever happens in the future, remains in the past”

 

“The bear is....well, complicated. It's used for a possession of sort. It uses a technique referred to as insidious thoughts. It implants whatever ideals you have into it's target and causes them to act those ideals out against themselves, or others. It was used on children a few centuries ago, and has remained with the Malfoy family since then”

 

Stanley rubbed his chin thoughtfully, “And what of the combs”

 

“The combs were enchanted to only be used by Malfoys. My wife had them in her jewelery box, and several trinkets were missing along with them.  I am still not convinced they were taken purposefully, though that resolve is fading as our day continues”

 

“And why would your wife leave out something so dangerous?”

 

“My wife has been dead for quite some time, Mr. Cromwell. I admit, I have been unable to completely put away all of her affects. I had forgotten they were in there, or I would have gotten rid of them several years ago” responded Lucius lightly. Hermione reached under the table to squeeze his knee, and he gave her a grateful look.

 

“Do you trust him?” asked Mason bluntly, looking at Hermione squarely.

 

“Initially, when we first started working together? No. But, I was the only one that could help him. And after the time we've spent together... I mean, don't think that we're besties braiding each other's hair and calling each other up on our mobiles. But, I trust Lucius with my life” she replied, honestly. Lucius placed a hand over hers on his knee and gave it a soft squeeze as well.

 

“So, Mr. Cromwell, what do you think of the dark mark appearing in New York City?” asked Lucius, grey eyes coolly assessing the dark haired man. Stanley took a drink of his own beer and then rubbed a thumb across his lower lip before replying.

 

“There have been rumors in the last few months about anti-No-Maj sentiments rising in certain areas of the country – New York included. It's been hard to pin them down, and seemed a bit far-fetched. But I find it hard to believe the appearance of your objects and the dark mark are coincidental”

 

“Agreed” replied Mason, “I'd like to go to the hospital morgue and see if we can gather some more information” Hermione grimaced again, but nodded.

 

“Perhaps they'll even have your other comb” interjected Stanley morosely.

 

Lucius sighed, “So long as some other twit hasn't decided to try and give it to his girlfriend as a gift”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

The hospital looked fairly similar to St. Mungo's, with stark, mint green walls and long corridors listing the various magical maladies treated in each section. When she asked the name, Mason grinned at her cheekily and responded that it was called “St. Elsewhere”.

 

They'd been shuffled down to the lower levels relatively quickly, and their physical and magical examination of the body had been relatively unrewarding other than her magical signature did not appear to match that of the room. Fortunately, the hairpiece had been placed into a box of found items that was being sequestered to in the director's room. He appeared extremely relieved to give it back to Lucius, practically throwing the package at him before fleeing the room. Unfortunately, there had been no magical signature when Hermione had tested the comb, and Stanley said it was likely due to the cleansing ritual it had been through after being removed from the victim.

 

After departing, Hermione and Lucius were returned to their hotel with the decision to visit some local points of interest and do some questioning the following day. Showered and changed out of her work clothes, Hermione had thrown on a tank top and yoga pants, and was reading over some research she'd brought along from work.

 

She'd been uncertain if Lucius listened to much music, or if he did what type, but ended up turning on the muggle radio to an easy listening station. She figured it was safe enough, and needed the mental balm to soothe her nerves this evening. As was her habit she walked around the room while reading, pausing occasionally to sway to the music as it suited her. It was in the middle of one such session that Lucius happened to find her.

 

“What on earth are you doing?” he asked, amusement faint in his voice. She turned to look at him, and smiled. He looked remarkably relaxed in tan linen pants and a white, loosely buttoned dress shirt, with hair down around his face. She noted he had no socks on, which seemed completely unlike him, though she internally had to admit she had no idea what Lucius was like when he was not working.

 

“Dancing, Mr. Malfoy” she teased as she swayed to the slow song. He made a face.

 

“I'm not sure that counts as dancing” he replied loftily, and she laughed at him.

 

“Well, I'm certainly not going to do the waltz while reading about time control” she responded glibly, grimacing a moment as the focus of her research left her mouth a little too easily.

 

Lucius regarded her for a moment, but let it slide as he went into the kitchenette and pulled a bottle out of one of the cabinets, “Would you like some whiskey, Ms. Granger?”

 

“No, thank you. I think I need to keep my wits about me right now”

 

“Hmm” he responded, before pouring himself a glass, and then sitting on the couch. She tipped her head as she noticed he had a book in hand.

 

“What are you reading?” she asked.

 

“Lady Chatterly's Lover” he responded flippantly, and she stood abruptly still. He caught her stare, and laughed, “Historical fiction about Druids”

 

She shook her head, and went back to her dancing, “You never fail to surprise me, Mr. Malfoy”

 

“The feeling is mutual, Ms. Granger”

 


	6. Chapter 6

The sky was just starting to turn a dove gray, marking the slow, inevitable rise of the sun when Hermione was startled out of sleep by an insistent trill. She jerked awake, pulled away from murky dreams of mixed remembrance and conjecture, and reached for her bag on the nightstand across the bed from her. Too far to grasp, she floundered across the mattress, trying to disentangle herself from the cotton sheets that had wound themselves around her legs in the middle of the night. Finally, on the fourth ring, she was able to grab her mobile and swipe the green button across the screen.

 

“Hello?” she stage whispered, eyes still not completely open.

 

“Hermione?” came the light baritone back, and she rubbed her hand across her face.

 

“Draco?” she asked, mildly confused.

 

“The one and only. What took you so long to answer?” he demanded.

 

“Draco...what time is it there?” she asked, flopping onto her back.

 

“It's 10 in the morning.....Ohhhhhhhh....” came the response, and she rubbed her face again.

 

“Yes, darling, there's that little thing called time zones”

 

“I just was worried about you two” replied Draco, and she could hear the pout in his voice. There was a muffled voice in the background and she propped herself up on her elbows.

 

“Is Harry there with you?” she asked.

 

“Yes, and he says he's worried about you too,” The suddenly louder voice in the background seemed to suggest otherwise.

 

“We're fine. We found the combs” she chewed on her lip, and then stood up, grabbing a light, short robe to wrap around herself before leaving her room and retreating to the balcony for more privacy, “Draco, we found the dark mark on a wall in the house we visited”

 

She could hear his sharp intake of breath, “There have been rumors of anti-muggle sentiments on the rise over seas”

 

“Do me a favor? Get me a copy of the names of known Death Eaters that haven't been accounted for. I have a hunch,” she requested. She could almost see him nod at her.

 

“Consider it done. I'll have them sent over today...or tomorrow... Or is it yesterday?” he mused.

 

“Same day, just 5 hours earlier than London” she replied, leaning against the railing, watching the earliest rays of sunlight begin to rise up from behind the buildings.

 

“So, tell me, what do you think of Mason?” Draco abruptly switched topics, and this time she could definitely hear the amusement in his voice.

 

“Merlin, you could have warned me!” she exclaimed back, “Are all the American agents so...so...” she gesticulated.

 

“Delicious?” came the response, and she groaned.

 

“Basically. Did you ever meet Stanley?” she asked.

 

“No, but I saw a picture. You'd think they just went up to the most attractive blokes on the street and asked them to join the force” a voice loudly protested in the background, and she heard a soothing, “But none of them are as attractive as you are, love”

 

Hermione scrunched her nose,”That's my best friend. He's basically my brother. Please do not make out with him while you're on the phone with me, Draco” her only response was a wet noise through the head set, and she made a face, “I'm going to hang up on you if you don't stop doing that!”

 

There was a low chuckle in her ear, and a reply of, “How is my Dad?”

 

“Well enough, I think. Yesterday was full of the normal questions and accusations once they found out”

 

“I see” came the terse response.

 

“He...  WE handled it as well as usual” she tried to placate the younger Malfoy.

 

“Hmm” was her only answer. Shivering in the early morning breeze, Hermione stood and turned to go back into the suite but froze at the sight in front of her.

 

“Draco...” she croaked, her throat suddenly dry.

 

“Yes? Everything ok?” he asked urgently. Hermione gaped, opening and closing her mouth a few times. Through the sliding glass door, clear as day, she could see Lucius hanging from the doorway to his room, going through the motions of pull ups, his back towards her. He was shirtless, only long black pants on, and his well muscled back and shoulders flexed as he fluidly pulled himself up over and over on the doorframe.

 

“Does your father... does he normally... Work out in the morning?” she squeaked. There was a pause, and then a very knowing and silky,

 

“Why yes. Pull ups, push ups, sit ups, some running. As much as we'd like to pretend that we look good from virtue of pureblood status alone, it does actually take regular effort to stay that way. Did I forget to mention that to you?

 

“You PRAT” she hissed into the phone, knowing that he knew about her back and arm fetish. He laughed then, full and melodious.

 

“Don't forget to call tonight, Granger. No matter what time” there was a soft protest in the background again, “And Potter says hi, and he loves you”

 

She tried to rub the red out of her cheeks, tipping her head down to allow her curls to cover her face, “Love the both of you too” she murmured before hanging up the phone. She took a deep breath before opening the sliding door, trying to make enough noise to alert the older Malfoy to her presence. At the sound, he dropped from the door and turned towards her. His chest was as well developed as his back, a small smattering of light hairs covering his pectorals before trailing down his flat stomach and dipping into his pants.

 

“Good morning” she said a little shyly, crossing her arm across her waist to pull her robe closed around her.

 

“Good morning. Was that my son?” he asked, gesturing with his head to the mobile in her hand. She nodded affirmatively.

 

“He sends his love. He was worried about you”

 

“The sentiment is appreciated, but not necessary”

 

She rolled her eyes, “Well, he is your son. And he is DRACO, so I'm pretty sure worry is a part of his personality”

 

He chuckled at that, reaching over into his room for a tee-shirt that he pulled on over his head. It did little to hide his physique. She could feel her cheeks warming again, and she shuffled sideways towards her room, “I, uh...Do you...I was going to get ready for the day. Do you need the bathroom?”

 

He regarded her with an amused smirk on his lips for a moment before shaking his head, “No, I'll be a bit longer” She nodded, and then turned to her left and practically fled back to the safety of her bedroom.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

It was several hours later that Hermione, Lucius and the two American detectives were mulling over a series of pictures in Mason's office. Their attempts to turn up any more information in regards to the whereabouts of the remaining objects had come up empty, and thus far all questions had come to dead ends. Hermione chewed on her lower lip as she regarded the information before them.

 

“So the victim, Ms. Williams... She was dating whom, again?” she asked. Stanley gave out an irritated snort, and she pinned him with a look that she knew had scared at least one or two men in her life into compliance. He raised his hands, his face amused as he replied

 

“Her friends said it was a recent relationship. Apparently her friends said it was a new enough that they didn't have his full name, but she called him Cole”

 

“Hmmmm” she tapped the pictures with a thoughtful finger, “And we don't have any pictures of him”

 

“No, none have turned up” came the affirmative from Stanley, a touch of annoyance in his voice.

 

“Did she happen to carry a mobile?” asked Lucius from across the table. Hermione looked up at him, an inquisitive eyebrow raised, “I know, a muggle technology question from me” he deadpanned, “Will wonders never cease”

 

“It's a good question” responded Hermione, and she looked at the other two men who passed a guilty look between the two of them.

 

“Ah” started Stanley, rubbing the back of his head.

 

“We honestly didn't even think about it” finished Mason, “No-Maj technology is still in it's relative infancy in regards to integration in wizarding society here”

 

“It is in Europe as well, but even my son carries one of those blasted things,” came Lucius's reply, “As I understand it can do almost anything, including taking pictures”

 

“Trust me, you don't want to look at Draco's pictures. It's like russian roulette, but with dick pics instead of bullets” came Hermione's absent response, as she shuffled back through the photographs. There was one that was picking at the edge of her brain. She grabbed it from the bottom of the pile, looking closely at the puddle of blood from the middle of the rug. At the edge of the pool she realized it wasn't fully rounded, and there was in a smudged corner as if there had been a shoe print. Waving it up in the air, she lifted her head up to say something, but paused as she caught three pairs of eyes staring at her,”What?”

 

Mason laughed first, and then gestured for her to put the picture down, “What have you found, Hermione?”

 

She pointed at the print, “Here. It looks like our victim wasn't alone”

 

This time Stanley chimed in, “Well, shit. Looks like we're not doing our job very well this week, Boulder”

 

“Don't feel too bad. Ms. Granger is well known for her ability to make just about everyone feel like an idiot” finally chimed in Lucius, and she rolled her eyes at him.

 

“Not everyone,” she huffed, “Look, it was easy to miss. It's just a smudge. Easy to overlook”

 

“To everyone but you” responded Lucius, and she squirmed under the praise.

 

“So this tells me our victim wasn't alone when she died” she said, changing the subject, “Which makes it seem like the combs were less of an accident. Especially with the mark on the wall”

 

Stanley's eyes lit up and he grabbed a piece of paper, and cursing under his breath as he read it, “This says that Ms. Williams was adopted. She was raised in a Maj home, but how much do we want to bet her birth parents are No-Maj?”

 

“I'd put every last galleon on it” replied Hermione.

 

“I'd say we need to look into that mobile” came Lucius's dry reply.

 


	7. Chapter 7

In a twist of good luck, it turned out that Marlene Williams actually DID have a mobile and was quite the prolific picture taker. In fact, while it appeared that her recent boyfriend attempted to avoid pictures at all cost, she'd managed to sneak in a few while he wasn't paying attention, offering the 4 detectives their first glimpse of their potential killer. Hermione had practically skipped to the printer to gather the pictures of the young man, thrilled to be getting their first break.

 

“So, you're the lucky one who gets to work with Boulder and Cromwell, huh?” asked a feminine voice from her elbow as she scooped up her prints. Mildly surprised, Hermione raised her eyebrows as she turned to the woman to her left.

 

Just a little taller than Hermione, she was dark haired with jade eyes, olive toned skin and soft curves. Her face was hard lined, though lightened by full lips turned up in a generous smirk, and Hermione felt herself returning it, “Well, it's a sacrifice, but someone has to do it”

 

The woman laughed then, and held out her hand, “I'm Judith. Mostly a patrol rat, but trying to work my way into homicide”

 

Hermione shook the proffered limb, “Hermione Granger. I think my title is something like magical artifact enforcement agent, but most days it's Malfoy's mayhem handler”

 

“Malfoy? Is that the other delectable wizard that's been visiting?” asked Judith. Hermione blushed and nodded.

 

“But don't tell him I said so” Judith mimed locking her lips and throwing away the key.

 

“I hear a little rumor that you're working on a murder case” It was a statement more than a question.

 

“Ah, yes, though I'm not sure how much I can share,” replied Hermione, shuffling the pictures in her hands. The motion drew Judith's gaze down, and she tilted her head.

 

“I know that kid...is he a suspect?” she asked. Hermione's eyes widened,

 

“He's on the list, yes. Do you know his name?”

 

“Yeah, it's Cole Marcus. He's a big headed little punk, who has a penchant for being mean to people he thinks are below him” she grumbled, “He and his friends meet up at a bar off Independence street, and I have to bust his ass on a regular basis”

 

Hermione gaped at her for a moment, “Do you know how often they meet there?”

 

“Just about every day around 5. They tend to drink a lot and cause problems,” she responded. Hermione looked up at the clock on the wall – 4 pm.

 

“Blimey. You're amazing Judith....I'm sorry, I'm not sure I got your last name?” she asked. The woman grimaced.

 

“Bloom” she raised her hand at Hermione's expression, “Yes, my parents were sadists. It's why I go by Judith” Hermione let out a short laugh.

 

“Well, you just saved my arse Judith!” Hermione exclaimed, and then dashed back into the conference room with the other three men.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A little under an hour later they had managed to get organized and down to the Wooden Barrel, the only alehouse on Independence. They tucked themselves into a booth close to the door, attempting to watch patrons casually – or as casually as three enforcement officials and a former spy could ever manage. The venue was a brightly lit, open floor plan with booths around the walls near the front windows and sporting a horseshoe shaped bar in the middle. A few tables were scattered between the booths and the counter, but they were largely empty.

 

Mason had thrown on a baseball cap for the occasion, dressing mostly in casual clothing in an attempt to fit in. He leaned back against the bench, slinging his arm along the rail as he observed people who walked in. Stanley sat next to him, in his normal pinstripe suit, while Lucius was stuck in the corner next to Hermione. She squirmed a little in her seat, feeling as if it was painfully obvious they had never been there before, and what they were doing. As the minutes ticked by, she strummed her fingers nervously on the table in front of them, earning a glare from both Stanley and Lucius.

 

At exactly 5:04 PM, Cole Marcus walked in through the front door, passed by their booth, and towards a group of gathering friends on the other side of the room. Hermione and Mason exchanged a look, and he moved as if to get up and follow them.

 

“Wait” she hissed, “We need to know who's with him. If we spook them, they might split and we'd never find out”

 

Mason huffed an irritated breath, “I'm aware. But if we all go near them, they're going to smell cop all over us”

 

Hermione paused, and then pulled a face, “None of you can judge me for this” Lucius turned his head, expression one of great interest suddenly. Hermione sighed, and pulled out her wand, transfiguring her trousers into a knee length pencil skirt, and her shirt into a form fitting blouse that opened to show more cleavage than it hid. Mason, Stanley, and Lucius all raised an eyebrow at her, “Not a word” she warned. She tapped her boots, changing them into heels and stood, tottering over to the bar.

 

Plastering a ridiculous grin on her face, she giggled as she approached the bartender. Leaning onto the bar, she pressed the underside of her breasts onto her arms, pushing them up and even further out, “Hello, love!” she greeted him.

 

“Hi there” he replied, eyes decidedly not meeting hers.

 

“What do you think, is this lighting good for a selfie?” she asked, positioning herself so she could get a better look a the group of people on the other side of the room, using her elbows to further enhance her cleavage. He nodded, still looking down.

 

“Hmmm....Maybe I should try a few, just to make sure,” Hermione pulled out her mobile, and tilted her head to one side, vacant smile on her face. She twisted her phone just right so it could catch the entire group in fram before firing off a couple shots, and giggling again for effect. Keeping the phone close to her, she continued to smile naively as she swiped her finger to review the pictures she'd managed to procure.

 

There were 7 men all together, Cole Marcus being one of them. Three appeared to be American as well, another had his face turned away, and the fifth was too grainy to make out. But the last man, face caught in profile, made Hermione's blood freeze. She swallowed hard, and then attempted to casually stand and return to her group, waggling her fingers at the bartender. En route, she dropped the mobile back into her pocket, and grabbed a hairclip she kept on hand, casually slipping it under the curls that she allowed to drape over her face to keep it hidden. Slipping her hand back into her skirt pocket, she grabbed the bracelet she kept there, leaning into the booth with the other men.

 

“We need to go. Now” she hissed, focus on Lucius. He narrowed his eyes in confusion at her, but immediately began moving. She turned back to the other two men, and murmured, “We'll meet you back at the office. I'll explain more there”

 

As Lucius stood out of the booth, she reached for his wrist and snapped the bracelet on it, swiping her right thumb across it before tugging him towards the door. With her left hand she reached up and tapped the hairclip even as she pushed the exit to the busy boulevard. She grabbed his hand more fully once in the open, dragging him down the road away from the Wooden Barrel. A brief glance back over her shoulder towards the bar confirmed her suspicions as the same dark haired man she'd photographed leaned out, peering in their direction. Her head snapped back around and she tugged Lucius insistently with her for another two blocks before turning down the first side street they came across.

 

Her heart pounded rapidly in her chest as she pulled him with her into the shadows at the back of the alleyway before pushing him back against the wall, and placing a finger on his lips as he protested. His eyes were on her as she leaned back, peering at the entrance they had come through, trying to discern if they had been followed. Several long moments passed, and he curled his hand around the one against his lips, sliding them both down to hold it reassuringly to his chest. Finally satisfied they were alone, Hermione slumped and gave him a weak smile.

 

“Care to explain what happened there, Ms. Granger?” he asked, his voice a deeper bass than usual. He jerked his head up in surprise at the sound of it. She smiled a little, and took out her phone, pulling up the last picture she'd taken, causing him to hiss in surprise.

 

“I couldn't risk us being seen, not with the mirror in play” she explained, her own voice a lighter soprano. He ran his eyes down her transfigured form, appreciation for her craft present in them. She knew she'd taken on the visage of a middle aged woman with slightly dumpy clothes.

 

The bracelet she'd put on Lucius had transformed him as well, though she was a little amused to see that even incognito the magical item had a hard time hiding his natural comeliness, simply bestowing him with black hair and cerulean eyes, and barely rounding out the high angles that dominated his normal facial features.

 

“That's an impressive piece of magic you've managed to create” he replied, and she blushed, tugging her hand out of his. He let her go, more slowly than she expected.

 

“We should get back. Mason and Stanley will want to know what happened,” she answered. Lucius nodded then, before reaching down and grabbing her hand again, pulling her back onto the busy street.

 

Back at the American headquarters, Hermione removed the bracelet from Lucius and her own hairclip before they re-entered the conference room. Mason stood as she opened the door, but it was Stanley who demanded, “What the hell was that little trick?”

 

She shook her head, “I'm sorry. I figured out who one of Cole's companions was, and I couldn't risk us being caught. It could have compromised everything”

 

Stanley frowned as she pulled her phone and passed it to the two men, pointing at the dark haired gentleman she'd caught in profile.

 

“You wanted proof about anti No-Maj sentiments, here it is. That's Antonin Dolohov. Pureblood, inner-circle death eater, and entirely too inventive curse creator” she said, a shiver going down her spine as she named the man who'd once almost killed her.

 

“I think, we're going to need a little more help” replied Mason grimly.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only one chapter for today, sorry! I've got another 1 1/2 written, but I'll have some time off work tomorrow to get a few more done. Thanks so much for the comments, I'm enjoying reading them all and I'm glad you're all enjoying the story so far!


	8. Chapter 8

It had taken significantly less time for Draco to get approval for the permits to get not only himself, but also Harry permission to travel to the states to help with the investigation and round up. By 7:30 that night, the conference room in the New York headquarters for Magical Law Enforcement was a hub of activity that included all five wizards and Hermione, trying to not only come to a consensus about risk but also develop a plan for retrieving dark wizards and objects alike.

 

As the door to the room opened again, Hermione sighed in appreciation at the smell of coffee that wafted under her nose, only to scowl in irritation as the administrative assistant witch passed her by and gave it to Draco. He paused, mid-debate with Mason, and bestowed one of his charming smiles on the simpering girl, addressing her with an appreciative “Why thank you, love”

 

She giggled and turned to Harry, promising him the next cup before scampering back past Hermione and out the door. Lucius was seated on the right side of the oblong table that took up the middle of the room, cup of tea already in hand, and he raised an eyebrow at the look on her face as he took another sip. Before she could open her mouth to bite out a scathing remark, however, a warm cardboard cup was pressed into her open hand. Surprised, she turned to her right to find Judith standing there, staring at the scene before them.

 

“Oh Merlin bless you, you beautiful, beautiful woman” she groveled, taking a long pull of the hot drink. Judith shrugged, taking a sip from her own.

 

“Well, it's a sacrifice, but someone had to do it” she answered, eyes trained on the bevvy of handsome wizards before them. Hermione coughed on her coffee, and then laughed at the repetition of her words from the previous day.

 

“It seems that everyone in the building is watching” she replied, appreciating the warmth that was seeping into her body and restarting her brain.

 

“I mean, it's not that often that you have three foreign agents and a consultant working on a murder case” came the response, “Though, I'm going to have to say it probably has more to do with the fact that they're all fucking gorgeous”

 

Hermione nodded in acknowledgment, “I'm pretty sure that at least three witches and one wizard made that clear with the number of times they've found reasons to come in here”

 

“Yes, well, it's a shame those two play for the other team”said Judith matter of factly, gesturing towards Draco and Harry. Hermione raised an eye at the other witch, and she scoffed back at her surprise, “Detective wannabe, remember?” she gestured at herself. Hermione did laugh then, drawing the attention of Harry from across the room who gave her a questioning look. She waved her hand at him.

 

“Technically, both of them are off the market as well” she replied quietly, “But, very few people know. Not even Lucius”

 

“Hmmm” was her thoughtful reply, followed by a “You know, I've been doing a little research on you, too”

 

Hermione fidgeted, “Oh?”

 

“Hermione Granger. Order of Merlin, first class and brightest witch of her generation. Some credit you with the downfall of this Voldemort fellow”

 

“No, that was Harry. I just helped keep him alive” she deflected immediately, and Judith scoffed at her.

 

“Don't brush off your accomplishments so easily. If he's anything like the rest of the men I work with, it's a fucking miracle they survive day to day without someone nagging them to tie their shoes and brush their teeth. I'm betting you were the brains”

 

She ducked her head in agreement, “Harry is a very smart wizard, and very brave, but research has never been his strong suit”

 

Judith raised an eyebrow and smiled at her then, tapping her own coffee cup against Hermione's, “Here's to keeping idiots alive, then” and both women dissolved into laughter again, drawing the attention of the male inhabitants of the room.

 

“Ms. Bloom, to what do we owe the pleasure?” asked Mason, smiling in their direction.

 

“Judith here was the one to identify Cole Marcus” interjected Hermione, placing credit firmly on her new friend's shoulders, “She was the one who told me where we could find them”

 

“Wonderful!” exclaimed Harry, and he gestured her over, “Perhaps you can help us identify some of these other blokes”

 

“Judith, that's Harry Potter. One of my oldest and dearest friends, and an Auror” Hermione introduced, “And the blonde haired prat is Draco Malfoy, one of my newest and dearest friends and general mayhem creator. Though, I believe his actual title is something like International wizard hunter extraordinaire”

 

Judith stood up a little straighter as she approached the two new Brits, extending her hand, “Delighted. Please, call me Judith”

 

Hermione went to take a seat next to Lucius, sipping on her coffee as she listened to the conversations around her. He wrinkled his nose a little at her choice of beverage, and she bumped his shoulder with her own at his expression. He huffed in response, though she could see a small smile out of the corner of her eye.

 

“So, what's the plan then?” she asked, bringing attention back to the matter at hand. Mason had a small frown as he looked over at everyone.

 

“Draco here thinks the best time to confront them would be tomorrow, at the Wooden Barrel, before they have a chance to catch on to our investigation”

 

“Ok. Would it just be the six of us, or do you want more backup?”she replied. Mason and Stanley exchanged a look, and Judith's eyes narrowed at the Americans.

 

“Well...” hedged Stanley.

 

“We were thinking it would just be the five of us....” continued Mason. Hermione's mouth gaped open in shock, and she heard Lucius openly scoff next to her. Draco turned to the two men in confusion, but it was Harry who recovered first and openly laughed at them.

 

“You were thinking about doing this without Hermione?” he asked, and shook his head, eyes filled with mirth.

 

“It's going to be very dangerous” started Stanley, a bit lamely as he noted the amused expressions on all of the Brits faces.

 

“Mate, if shite goes down, I'm going to be the first one to hide behind Hermione” responded Draco, mirth evident in his voice as he shook his head at the older man.

 

“I'm going to have to agree with Mr. Potter and Draco. Clearly, you've not been paying attention to what an asset Hermione is” came Lucius's clipped response at her side, “Why, exactly do you think they sent her here?”

 

Mason had the good sense to look a little embarrassed, but Stanley pushed forward, “But, what if she gets hurt? You did say this Dolohov fellow was creative and quite dangerous”

 

At that Hermione stood, and shoved the collar of her shirt off to one side, revealing the silver scar that was a reminder of her first time in the Department of Mysteries, “Do you want to know why I know Dolohov is dangerous? Because this is not the first time I will have faced off against him. We fought, once before, when I was 15. I still carry this souvenir of our encounter. I did, however, manage to survive and live to fight another day. I look forward to meeting him again, this time on more equal terms” she snapped at him, “Now, I'm not sure how much more clearly I can put it, but I am NOT a china doll. I will not fall to hysterical pieces when you put me under pressure, and I would appreciate it if you would stop acting as if I'm completely incapable of doing my job”

 

Judith tipped her head to the side, noting that Hermione's hair was rising and the lights in the room were flickering. Draco had taken a step back, and Harry had placed himself behind the blonde. Mason and Stanley were exchanging concerned looks, leaning away from the table. The only one looking completely non-plussed was Lucius, who placidly sipped his tea by her side. “I mean, an Order of Merlin, first class probably should have answered all those concerns before she even got here. Did you even bother to research our colleagues?” came her cool interjection.

 

Draco patted her shoulder appreciatively as Hermione's magic waned, and the tension seeped from the room, “So, we're in agreement. Hermione is coming along”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was many hours later when Lucius and Hermione returned to their hotel, Draco and Harry in tow. Having arrived too late to secure another room, it was decided that they would spend the night with the former inhabitants. Hermione yawned as soon as she crossed the threshold to the suite and tossed her belongings on the floor before collapsing onto the couch.

 

“I'm knackered” she whined, dropping a hand across her face. Harry grabbed her legs and lifted them so he could sit next to her, before dropping them back on his lap. She grunted at him, and he swatted her thigh. Lucius went into the kitchenette pouring a glass of whiskey for himself and Draco before sitting in the high backed chair next to the couch. Draco sank to the floor next to Hermione's head at the couch and she ran her fingers through his short hair fondly, ruffling it out of place.

 

“Where are you planning on sleeping?” came a controlled question from Lucius. Draco raised an eyebrow at his father.

 

“Well, Potter and I were planning on taking Hermione into her room and shagging her rotten... So, there I suppose”

 

Hermione's eyebrows shot to her hairline and she made a noise of protest, even as Lucius sputtered and coughed on his drink. Harry laughed at the other end of the couch, “Shhh, Draco, that was supposed to remain our secret!” he added. Hermione struggled then, flopping over and falling off the couch in an effort to get up. Harry's laughter just got stronger at the affronted look on her face.

 

“Draco Malfoy, you are a disgusting git. I would sooner pleasure myself with a flobber worm than take you to my bed!” she hissed at him, and Lucius began coughing again to both of the younger men's delight.

 

“So, transfiguration it is then. I'll take the couch, Potter can have the chair” came Draco's amused response, “It's almost like we're wizards”

 

Harry stood then, and reached his arms out towards Hermione, “Come on, he's just taking the mickey out of you”

 

“You are no better Harry James Potter,” she growled at him. Harry just laughed, and collected her into his arms where he hugged her to his chest.

 

“No dancing tonight, Hermione?” he asked. She huffed against him, before wrapping her arms around his waist in a familiar hug.

 

“Not tonight, too tired” she answered into his chest. He nodded, tucking her head under his chin for a moment before releasing her. She reached up and cupped his face with her right hand, before turning to go to her room, “I'll see you lot in the morning” she waved, exhaustion taking over.

 

 


	9. Chapter 9

 

It was almost too warm when she woke the next morning, and Hermione frowned a little at the feeling of a body pressed up against her own, arms wrapped around her waist. The soft snuffle of a snore by her ear gave away whom her bed companion was, and she groaned a little as she tugged her way out of his arms. He whined in his sleep, making to grab for her again, but she patted the side of his face and kissed his forehead as she stood up. Grabbing her robe, she pulled it on and wrapped it around her middle as she slipped out of her bed into the common area.

 

Lucius was already awake, sipping on tea in the reconstituted chair, and Draco was just walking back into the room with a full, brown paper bag in hand as she exited. Her eyes lit up at his bounty and she bounced over to his side, “What did you get?!”

 

Draco laughed at her, lifting the bag over his head, “Food, Granger! Now go sit down, and you might actually be allowed to eat it”

 

She pouted playfully, and then flounced over to the couch where she deposited herself none too gracefully onto it's cushions. Lucius raised an eyebrow at her, and placed his cup on the side table next to the chair before asking, “Where is your bed companion?”

 

She furrowed her brow, “You mean Harry?”

 

“Well, that would be the only one of us that isn't in this room” came Draco's sarcastic response as he grabbed some paper plates from the kitchenette. She shot him a withering look as he brought everything into the living area, dropping them onto the coffee table unceremoniously.

 

“He was still sleeping, last I saw” she answered, “He's usually a deep sleeper. Probably won't wake until I force him, or he smells coffee”

 

Draco snorted at her side, before opening the bag and passing a chocolate chip croissant her way. She gave an unintelligible noise of glee, before tearing off one of the ends and stuffing it unceremoniously into her mouth. The gleeful sound gave way to moaning, “Oh my god Draco, you are definitely my favorite right now”

 

Draco gave her a mirth filled look, before gesturing his head in the direction of Lucius, who was watching her with a peculiar expression on his face, “My dad was curious as to why Harry spent the night in your bed”

 

Lucius made a noise of protest, and Hermione choked on her croissant simultaneously. Draco reached over and pounded her on her back as she attempted to catch her breath, “What?!” she exclaimed.

 

“Don't look at me. Old fashioned, pure blood sensibilities and all that”

 

The look that Lucius was giving Draco could only be described as murderous, but the younger man just winked and stuffed a piece of danish into his mouth. Hermione swung wide eyes at Lucius, and he sighed, looking down at his cup.

 

“Harry is just a friend, really, basically my brother. We've slept in the same bed for years, starting around the time we were hunting for horcruxes” she explained, “The idea of doing anything more than sleeping with Harry is almost as abhorrent as sleeping with Draco”

 

Draco gave an indecipherable shout then, mouth full of pastry and Lucius smirked at him. Hermione stuck out her tongue at the younger Malfoy before tearing off another piece of croissant.

 

“You weren't complaining when we snogged!” exclaimed Draco, and Hermione pinioned him with her eyes.

 

“There was a lot of firewhiskey involved, and I'm pretty sure we both agreed never to speak of that incident again. Though, apparently, that was just me, because YOU seem to bring it up whenever it's most convenient”

 

“Well, not everyone can say they've snogged THE Hermione Granger” he replied, winking lasciviously at her.

 

“And not everyone can say they've snogged the Malfoy heir and yet, here I am, attempting to forget it ever happened” she replied impassively. At that Lucius actually chuckled, and picked his cup up again. Feeling necessary to explain, but unsure why, she turned back to Lucius, “Draco and I got rip roaringly drunk at a party several years ago and were dared to snog each other. I'm fairly certain we can both agree it was both the worst make out session, and best beginning to a friendship ever”

 

“Hermione has nightmares” came Draco's sudden interjection, and she swung her head around to stare at him with mouth open.

 

“I see” came Lucius's slow drawl, eyes trained on Hermione's face as she flushed.

 

“I do. Ah, having someone there with me can sometimes stave them off” she muttered. Draco bumped her shoulder with his own, catching her eyes with his, a warmth present in their silver depths. She smiled a little back, tearing off another piece of her croissant.

 

“And what do these nightmares entail?” Lucius inquired. She shrugged, face closing off.

 

“It's hard to say. Sometimes it's just a feeling. Sometimes I'm back in the Forest of Dean, locket around my neck, and no one there to save me. Sometimes it's the feeling of being caught by a spell, and sometimes I'm back fighting at Hogwarts. I'm sure you probably deal with similar” she paused, meeting his mercurial gaze, “And possibly worse”

 

He didn't respond then, but an emotion flickered through his eyes and she softened her own expression towards him. He tipped his head briefly, before reaching for the bag of pastries, “If this is what you call breakfast, Draco, it's amazing you haven't gained 10 stone by now”

 

Harry took that moment to exit the bedroom, stretching and scratching at his side, a gentle smile passing over his lips as he looked at Draco. Draco returned it before schooling his features, and Harry looked down exclaiming, “Oooh! Croissants!”

 

Hermione grabbed one and chucked it at his head, which he skillfully caught and took a bite out of, “Lucius wants to know why we're sleeping together” said Hermione, grinning as he choked on his snack. Lucius shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose as Harry attempted to explain noisily around his breakfast.

 

As he finished eating, Draco rose and grabbed his messenger bag from behind the couch, pulling out a packet of papers and passing it over to her.

 

“By request, unaccounted for Death Eaters” he announced. She grasped the folder and opened it, surprised it was lighter than expected. Lucius looked at the bundle with interest and she waved him over, scooting over in her seat to allow him room to look with her.

 

She grabbed out her mobile phone and pulled up the pictures from the bar, trying to compare them to the stack of files in front of her. She turned each page over slowly, carefully evaluating their associated persons, “Do you recognize any of these people?” she asked Lucius.

 

He grabbed one of the pages off her lap, frowning at it, frustration evident on his face, “I recognize most of these people. Whether or not they're here in New York City, is a completely different question”

 

Hermione huffed in irritation, turning her phone over so the picture appeared larger in landscape. The man that she'd caught looking away from the camera had blonde hair, and she could just barely make out a bit of a tattoo at the back of his neck. She used her fingers to zoom in on the picture, trying to see if she could make it out better.

 

“Selwyn” breathed Lucius next to her. She turned to him surprised, before looking back down at the picture.

 

“You know this one?” she asked, and he nodded, flipping through the pages in her lap before pulling out the one correlating Selwyn's profile. Instead of a single picture there were seven – one of his face from the front, one of his face in profile, and the remaining five cataloging his tattoos. The one on the back of his neck was a dragon, that curled in defiantly in an never ending infinity sign. Hermione had managed to catch half of the tail in it's perpetual dance in her snapshot.

 

“Selwyn was a mean bastard, but more brawn than brains,” replied Lucius, “I knew Voldemort was interested in overseas recruitment, but was never told of his more specific strategies. I wouldn't be surprised if Selwyn was sent here on orders to find new blood”

 

She chewed her lip a moment. One death eater was bad, two could make a nasty fight downright dangerous, and that was assuming they hadn't shared some of their more inventive spells with their new American friends. The problem was, she wasn't familiar enough with initiation practice to know what stage they might be at in terms of sharing information and skills sets.

 

“I doubt Antonin has shared some of his nastier creations,” Lucius said, as if reading her mind, “But I wouldn't be surprised if there has been some exchange of ideas. Picking out new blood was always a tricky business. If you give away too much too soon you might be fighting your own creations. Too long, and all you have is wand fodder”

 

Hermione pursed her lips, “So we've got 2 confirmed Death Eaters, and 5 unknowns. I just wish we knew how long they'd been here”

 

“Well,” started Draco, “The last sighting of Dolohov in England was 6 months ago, but Selwyn we haven't seen since the war. That puts us potentially at 5 years?”

 

“Does that make our odds better or worse?” she mused out loud. Lucius hummed next to her, a sound that rumbled in his chest.

“Does it really matter?” asked Harry, placing his wire framed glasses on his face, “We're going to have to face them either way”

 

“Well, I suppose it'd be nice to know if I'm going to have one person or five that know how to cut me in half” responded Hermione morosely. Harry's lips pressed into a thin line, and the room fell silent as there didn't seem to be a good answer to that.

 

As the afternoon rolled into the evening, they readied themselves for the possibility of an oncoming battle. While the plan was to try to take as many people into custody as possible without a fight, the reality they were facing appeared to be much grimmer as the hour drew closer. They group that left the American headquarters was quiet outside of discussing strategy and making sure they had their timing right. Hermione wanted to have herself and Lucius disguised due to the presence of the mirror, but was over-ridden by Harry in the end who was concerned they might not be recognized in a fight and would end up hurt.

 

At 4:30 pm, Harry and Draco slipped into the back of the Wooden Barrel, to block any exits from the bar, having made contact with the owners the previous day to inform them of their plan. At 4:55 pm, Mason and Stanley seated themselves at the same bar they had been the previous day. And at 5:10 pm, Hermione and Lucius walked in the front door, him slightly behind her, meeting Mason's eyes as she entered the venue, trying to impede any escape for their targets.

 

Mason nodded as she walked in, and he and Stanley stood simultaneously, walking purposefully towards the table near the back. There were only 5 men present today, and Hermione's stomach flopped a little as she realized that while Selwyn was there, she didn't spot Dolohov amongst them. Mason stopped a few feet away, turning squarely to face Cole, hand pulling a piece of parchment out of his work robes.

 

“Cole Marcus?” he started. The younger dark haired man tightened his jaw, eyes hardening as he replied,

 

“Yeah?”

 

“You are under arrest for the murder of Marlene Williams. Please place your wand on the table and come with us” came the firm order, both law enforcement agents with their own wands drawn at the table. For half of a second, Hermione held her breath, hopeful he might come peacefully.

 

That hope was shattered as Cole jumped up out of his seat, brandishing his own wand and shooting a curse at Mason that erupted as a jet of red light. More gracefully than she would have expected from the broad American, he dodged it and fired a stunning spell back at Cole. Cole, however, had already flipped the table over, and pandemonium broke out as spells were fired at the two detectives from multiple persons. Hermione snatched her own wand out of her holster, and bounded forward, shouting binding spells at two of the unknown faces. The third ran for the back, where Draco intercepted him, and suddenly it was just Cole and Selwyn facing off against the team.

 

A sneer graced Selwyn's face as he recognized Lucius finally, and he slashed his hand down in a straight line. Hermione watched, entranced as a bolt of purple lightening arcs towards them. Stanley, in a desperate moment, shoved her back hard away from the path of the spell.

 

Hermione fell back, strong hands catching her and steadying her on her feet. She blinked once, taking in their surroundings, instantly realizing something had changed. They were back at the doorway. Lucius seemed to catch on at the exact same moment, and Mason and Stanley scrambled to get out of the booth before their quarry had a chance to get away. As their feet touch the floor, there was the sound of chairs scraping, and then a loud boom as the front windows blew out of the bar.

 


	10. Chapter 10

The room erupted into chaos. Hermione was vaguely aware that Stanley was bleeding profusely as they tried to duck the curses coming their way. She dove into the booth, Lucius close behind, peeking around the corner and firing off a few stunners at the men across the room from them. Someone had blocked the door to the back, effectively cutting off Draco and Harry from rushing to their help. Mason was trapped behind the bar, and had pulled Stanley with him, the older man cradling his left arm against his body. From her vantage point, Hermione couldn't tell if it was lacerated, broken, or both.

 

Mason leaned around the bar, shouting “Petrificus totalis!” and one of the unidentified lads fell over. Hermione cast a protection shield around Mason as Cole sent a hex his way, watching it bounce off harmlessly. Mason shot her a grateful look, and fired another spell back at the group of criminals. Selwyn, Cole and a brown haired boy were still standing, and Hermione could hear heavy pounding at the back door as Harry and Draco attempted to break through. She knew one of them would come around the front in moments, but moments could last a lifetime in a fight.

 

Recasting a protection shield around herself, she clambered out of the booth, firing curses and hexes at the remaining men, peripherally aware of Lucius at her back doing the same. The brown haired boy broke first, turning to run but finding himself pinned against the back door. Cole remained defiant, returning curses and counter curses. Hermione flinched as one hit the floor next to her, causing the wood to explode up around them. Lucius grabbed her arm and dragged her to the right, directly in front of him, as a chasm opened beneath where her feet used to be.

 

She could tell that Cole was getting tired – he was covered in sweat, and his curses were getting weaker. She had a momentary sense of relief that the hot head wasn't used to a fight such as this, and that they were likely to win. Unfortunately, it appeared both he and Selwyn realized the same thing at the same time, and turned to run. Cole launched his body over the table towards the front window, only to be stopped by a binding spell from Mason. Selwyn, however, managed to avoid their advances and jumped out the front window.

 

Hermione cursed, spinning around and pushing past Lucius to get out of the front door. She grabbed a potion vial from her pocket and tossed it to Mason, yelling, “For Stanley!” as both she and the older Malfoy retreated from the room. A loud bang from the back told her that Draco and Harry managed to break through as she ran out and into the middle of the busy boulevard in front of her. She saw Selwyn out of the corner of her eye, and turned in time to watch him drag a citizen out of a old Chevrolet Master before diving in and taking off. Cursing, she panted, looking about wildly for a way to catch him.

 

There was a loud honk, and the squeal of brakes as a vehicle screeched to a stop in front of them. In the front, Judith leaned out the window yelling, “GET IN!”

 

Without further prompting, Hermione yanked open the back door and shoved Lucius in before diving in behind him. The car lurched forward, and she was pressed against the seat for a moment as they took off in pursuit of the blonde. Lucius muffled a curse next to her, before straightening himself up and helping her regain her balance. Hermione caught Judith's eyes in the rearview mirror, and the woman gave her an all too enthusiastic grin as she reached up to tap the ceiling of the vehicle.

 

To her amazement, the roof disappeared and wind whipped their faces as Judith nimbly maneuvered the old cadillac through traffic. Selwyn's Chevrolet weaved erratically around vehicles and pedestrians, and Hermione took the moment to attempt a stasis spell on the back wheels. The spell missed as he jerked the car to the left, and she grumbled at the bad timing. She stood then, using a hand to brace herself on the back of the front bench while she fired spells at the blonde. One hit the passenger side door, blowing it off the hinges as he swung around a corner at the last moment. She noticed it's violent repulsion was slowed to prevent it from hitting bystanders, and gives Lucius an appreciative look.

 

Hermione wasn't sure where they were going, but it was obvious Judith knew how to navigate the roads. They turned from busy boulevard onto tight side streets where the cars nearly touched the surrounding apartments, and then back onto a main road. She fired another stasis spell and this time it managed to catch the driver's side rear tire, causing the car to sway wildly back and forth. There was the smell of burnt rubber, and smoke as the car turned wildly to the right, down a narrow alley way. It began to tip as it turned, and she saw Lucius fire a bombardment spell that struck the pavement just next to the vehicle, causing it to tip over.

 

Hermione cursed as they found themselves 3 blocks back again, but her anger was short lived as the Chevy tipped over in front of them, hitting the ground on the driver's side and sliding. Despite having jumped time, the car had sustained enough damage in it's last moments to be subjected to them now, giving them the advantage again. Judith swore colorfully, and slammed on her brakes, the Cadillac drifting towards the downed vehicle as the rotors locked up.

 

Hermione felt her own body lurch forward, the momentum from standing up throwing her balance off as the convertible screamed to a stop. Just as she was certain she was going to fly over the windshield onto the pavement, a sharp tug to her belt jerked her backwards and she collided with the back seat and a warm body. An arm curled protectively around her head as the propulsion of the car stopped, and suddenly all she can hear is the ragged gasps of herself and her savior.

 

Panting, she looked up and found Lucius's face close to hers, his body curled around her as if to soften the blow. His eyes met hers, and she became acutely aware, for the first time that his eyes are not actually gray but a soft blue with white overlay and navy around the irises. She felt the soft puff of his breath against her skin, and they stared at each other for a moment, allowing the adrenaline to work out of their veins. Her senses began to return, and she felt the soft starchiness of his long sleeve shirt behind her neck, and smelled earl grey tea, cologne and leather. His nostrils flared for a moment, and then he released her, helping to set her back into her seat, before he opened the passenger door.

 

As they dove out, they found that Judith had beat them to the punch, and had already caught and bound Selwyn, even as he tried to climb out the passenger side of the car. She looked at them, spell streaming out of her wand, and smiled, “I've always wanted a car chase!”

 

Hermione laughed, and leaned over, bracing her hands on her knees. She reached into her pocket again, grabbing a galleon, and saying “We've got Selwyn. Send a wagon to pick him up”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Back at headquarters, the mood felt different. Hermione frowned a little as she spared a glance at Lucius, noting that his expression told her he felt it too. She wasn't sure exactly what the change was, but as she stepped into the conference room it became clear as the enforcement agents there stood and applauded for her. She paused, surprised, and then ducked her head in embarrassment. Lucius placed a hand on her lower back back, simultaneously supporting her, and preventing her from turning and running.

 

“Excellent job, Hermione” praised Mason, as he walked over and extended his hand. Hermione shook it gratefully, and then shrugged.

 

“Judith was really the hero” she deflected, pointing at the dark haired witch in the back of the room, “If she hadn't have come along when she did, we would have lost him”

 

Judith shot her a look of gratitude, and Stanley and another department head clapped her on the shoulder. Stanley's arm was bandaged and in a sling, though he appeared no worse for the wear.

 

“Have we started questioning Selwyn yet?” Hermione asked, trying to take the focus away from herself. Harry shook his head at the back of the room.

 

“We wanted to wait for the two of you to get here” he responded. Draco lobbed something across the room at them, and Lucius deftly caught it next to her shoulder. He opened his palm to reveal an ornately decorated stopwatch, with the words **No all who wander are lost** engraved on the back. She gave him an exasperated look, and he shrugged at the cliched words.

 

“Probably want to lock that one up” said the younger Malfoy, and Lucius nodded succinctly before slipping it into the bag Hermione had strapped to her wrist.

 

“I'm going to have it destroyed when we get back” was his businesslike reply. Hermione tipped her head at him.

 

“Destroyed?” she asked.

 

“Well, clearly, in spite of all precautions it was stolen. And as you know first hand, it's quite the dangerous piece to have just floating around for any criminal to pick up. So, yes, destroyed”

 

Mason cleared his throat across the room then, and motioned towards the door, “Ready to get some answers?”

 

The interrogation room followed the stereotype – single table, single chair, bright overhead light, one way window for observation. The only difference was that the room was designed to suppress magic, and was sealed with protection spells. No magic could be performed by anyone who entered the room, which was a protection to criminal and detectives alike. It was decided that Mason and Stanley would be the ones to question Selwyn, as his history with Lucius would likely lead to locked lips and more frustration.

 

Selwyn was already seated at the table, arms and legs chained, sneer painted on his face as he stared defiantly at the door. Mason ran a hand through his hair before looking down at Hermione, “I'm sure this will go well” She gave him an encouraging smile, and chuckled as he entered with Stanley.

 

Mason started with the standard questions, where he was from, how long he'd been there, what he was doing there. Predictably, Selwyn was stingy with answers, and didn't give anything away. Finally, Stanley sighed, “Look, I get it. You're pissed off you got caught. But this is going to go one of two ways – you either cooperate, or you get thrown in a cell where you rot slowly until you cooperate”

 

Selwyn turned, looking towards the window that separated him from the others, his face thoughtful, “I'll talk. But only to the girl” Hermione froze, and she felt a hand clamp down on her shoulder.

 

“What girl?” replied Mason, his tone light. Selwyn sighed, pinning him with a look.

 

“You know what girl. The Granger bitch. The only one of you who had the stones to try and catch me”

 

“You're not really in a position to negotiate” reminded Stanley, tightly. Selwyn grinned then, a cruel twist of his lips as he regarded the two men.

 

“I disagree, detective. Right now, there's an enchanted mirror that could tell anyone where you are at any time, and a stuffed toy that can take possession of anyone anytime just floating around in space. If you want more information, you give me the girl”

 

Hermione pursed her lips as she looked at Lucius, “I thought you said he was an idiot”

 

He shrugged, “Maybe we just had higher standards” Hermione gave him a flat look, and sighed.

 

“Why do I keep getting dragged into this shit?” she muttered under her breath as she walked over to the door, yanking it open. Mason and Stanley looked at her in surprise, Mason standing suddenly at her appearance. She made a waving gesture with her hand at him.

 

“Evening, Selwyn” she said, coolly. He grinned again, predatory glint in his eye.

 

“Evening, Granger. Long time no see” he replied. She raised an eye.

 

“Actually, I don't think we've ever formally met”

 

“Hmmm” he hummed as a response, eyes traversing her form. She saw Stanley stiffen in front of her, and she placed a hand on his shoulder steadying him.

 

“So, are you going to answer questions or are you going to gape all night?” she asked, allowing some irritation to color her tone.

 

“Tell me, golden girl, what do you want to know?” he asked.

 

“What are you doing here?”

 

“Stupid question, you already know the answer” he dismissed her with a wave of his hand. She growled a little

 

“The war is over, you twat”

 

“Is it?” he countered, eyes glittering in the overhead light. She narrowed her eyes at him

 

“It is” she responded firmly. He smirked, leaning back.

 

“If you say so”

 

Hermione took a cleansing breath, “Where is Dolohov?”

 

“He's gone on to meet some friends”

 

“And where exactly has he gone?” she repeated, exasperated by the direction of their conversation.

 

“Well, if I told you that, I'd have to kill you” he answered smugly. Hermione drew in a deep breath and turned to Mason and Stanley.

 

“Can I please speak to him alone?” she inquired. Mason furrowed his brow, and Stanley made as if to protest, “Look, he's chained up and this room is warded against magic. You five will be right outside the door if things get out of hand. I'll be the first to call on you if I need help”

 

Mason nodded slowly, and Stanley stood, both watching her carefully as they reluctantly left the room, door clicking shut behind them. Hermione turned back towards the blonde man, eyes hard as flint as she approached him.

 

“Listen, you cunt” she hissed, low enough she knew others couldn't hear, “I know you think you have the upperhand here. But you really, really don't” Turning her back so that the others couldn't see what she was doing, she slipped her hand into her bag and pulled out a golden cockroach. Placing it in her palm, she held it in his line of sight as it clicked to life, legs and antennae twitching. Selwyn sat up straight, taking notice.

 

“Now, this room is meant to prevent magic from being cast. But this, my little friend here, doesn't cast magic. It's imbued with magic, so everything it does is on it's own. And what it likes to do the most is burrow, and look for food. Do you know what it eats, Selwyn?” she asked sweetly, voice still quiet. He shook his head rapidly, “Mostly, it likes brains. And it's not very fast about eating them. But I've been told, you can hear the chewing inside your head”

 

The older man turned pale, and blanched, leaning back as she moved towards him again, “So. Do you want to talk to me? Or do you want to listen to your brains being gnawed on for the next two weeks?”

 

“Dolohov went to Los Angeles. He's meeting with another group of initiates. They're trying to organize a revel there. He took the mirror and the bear with him” came the rapid response. Hermione smiled, slipping her hand back into her bag, dropping the toy back in before reaching over and patting his cheek.

 

“Good boy” she said, loud enough for everyone to hear. Standing, she turned to leave the room, “I strongly suggest you answer the rest of the questions Mason and Stanley have. I'd hate to have to come back in here” she paused a moment before looking back at him, “And Selwyn? If Dolohov finds out we're coming, you'll regret it in ways you can't even comprehend yet”

 

Lucius raised an eyebrow at her as she left the room, appreciation written across his face. “He's all yours” she informed the others. Mason and Stanley gave her a guarded look before returning to the room, Selwyn suddenly much more talkative.

 

Harry wrinkled his nose, “I don't actually want to know what just happened in there. You're really fucking scary sometimes, you know that Hermione?”

 

She smiled wanly back at him, “I've been told it's part of my charm,” Looking up at Lucius she sighed, “Looks like our adventure isn't over yet. Up for a trip to the west coast?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I had some verb tense issues with this chapter (ie, I wrote it in the wrong tense and had to convert it). I think my word processor is trying to mess with me, too, and despite rereading and editing it multiple times I caught mistakes every time. I think something's been happening in the saving process. If you see something, please let me know so I can fix it!
> 
> Also, thanks for all the comments! Reading them makes my day, and I'm glad you're enjoying the story! :)


	11. Chapter 11

That evening, it was just Lucius and Hermione at the hotel. Harry and Draco had had to return to England, Selwyn in tow, to process him with the British MLE. They'd left with promises to return as needed, and Hermione had been a little disappointed to see them leave. After such a long, and trying day, she and Lucius had simply decided to order in room service for dinner, and their mostly consumed meals now sat on the coffee table next to the couch. Hermione paced and swayed the room while Lucius attempted to read again, though if the twitch of his right eye was any indication he was having a difficult time of it given the distraction.

 

Hermione grumbled to herself, trying to focus on the research in front of her. Unfortunately, thoughts of the mirror kept intruding and piquing her curiosity. As her brain picked at the idea of how such an item might work, she found herself growling in irritation, loud enough that her blonde companion lowered his book and looked at her.

 

“Problems?” came his amused question. She huffed as she dropped her own book on the ground, and flopped onto the couch next to him.

 

“I can't get that Merlin be damned mirror out of my head” she admitted. He tilted his head, closing his book with a finger still on the page he was reading.

 

“How so?”

 

“Well, I keep thinking, between the time Selwyn saw us in that bar and we caught him, there was plenty of opportunity for him to contact Dolohov and tell him about us,” she mused, and Lucius nodded for her to continue, “In which case, it wouldn't matter whether or not I threatened him with a brain eating cockroach. If he has that mirror, Dolohov could see us anywhere and at any time”

 

“...brain eating cockroach..?” asked Lucius, a confused and mildly alarmed look on his face. Hermione continued

 

“But then, if that's the case, how do we protect ourselves? If he can look in the mirror at any time and see our location, Dolohov could literally be watching us as we speak and there's nothing we could do about it”

 

“Brain eating cockroach..?”

 

“So, how does the mirror work? How does it find the intended person? Is it by a version of the hominem revelio spell where it latches on to physical being? Or is it by recognizing magical signatures? Will it work on anyone or will it only work on magical persons?”

 

Lucius regarded her with a discomfited look, “I think we need to have a conversation about what else you're carrying in that little bag of yours”

 

“And how does it process the surroundings of that person?” she mused, ignoring his concerns. He wrinkled his nose at her dismissal, before sighing and joining in on the pondering.

 

“It works on muggles and magical persons alike” he answered, “But via what means I'm not sure”

 

“Hmmmm.... I'd bet it works via a variation of hominem revellio” she replied. Lucius watched her apprehensively as she reached into her bag and pulled out a tome, “But how does it reveal that person and their location”

 

“Didn't Mr. Potter used to have a map that would show the location of all students at the school?” he asked. She tilted her head to the side, fixing her eyes on his.

 

“He did. But it just showed where the person was within the walls of the school, and not what was around them. Sort of” she pursed her lips again, “I wonder if it works like a looking glass spell. Do you know if there are limitations on where the mirror can be accessed?”

 

“None, that I'm aware of” he answered. Hermioned thrummed her fingers against the armrest as she used her other hand to flip through the spellbook, “Nervous tick or centering tool?” he asked, gesturing towards her hand

 

She looked up at him surprised, before grimacing and willing her fingers to stop, “A bit of both. Usually it's a centering tool. Metronome, I guess, to keep my thoughts at a steady pace. It's why I walk and dance, too”

 

A small smile played on his lips, “I used to bounce my leg. Constantly”

 

She smiled back then, “What broke you of the habit?”

 

“Too many years of being a Slytherin. Hard to be sly when your habits give you away” he answered, honestly.

 

“So, what do you do now?” she asked, surprised. He shrugged, the movement graceful.

 

“Live with the hum, mostly”

 

She peered at him in astonishment for a moment, “You hear it too?”

 

He nodded affirmatively, “Perpetually, in the background. Behind my thoughts, behind everything. I just have to tune it out”

 

“You are an incredible creature, Lucius Malfoy” she responded breathlessly, “I would go crazy trying to ignore it”

 

She noticed his expression became quiet for a moment, and she thought she imagined a touch of pink to his cheeks before he cleared his throat, “Well, a good poker face is necessary for most ventures in life”

 

She grimaced again, “Yes, I'm aware. I've been told I have a terrible one, and have the lightened bank account to prove it”

 

“Gryffindors” he replied in a teasing tone, “Wear your hearts on your sleeves, and your galleons in someone else's pockets”

 

She chuckled then, “Well, Draco has fleeced me more than once, so technically those galleons are in your pockets”

 

“Hmmm” he replied, “My son and I may need to have a chat about his willingness to pilfer from the gullible. It's hardly worth winning if there's no effort”

 

Hermione gaped at him, before swatting his arm with her heavy book. Lucius threw up his hand to protect himself, laughing at her response. She swatted him again, and he caught the edge of the book, pulling it, and by extension her, towards him. She laughed then, as well, and allowed him to remove the text from her grasp even as he abandoned his own. Placing them next to their plates, he reached over and grasped her hand in his own, tugging her to stand with him. His hands were warm, and smooth, and held hers gently but firmly.

 

“Come here, witch,” he smiled at her, “If you're insistent on making me mad by dancing, you will at least do it right”

 

She stood next him, and he placed a hand on her waist, at the dip where her hip and lower back met. The other hand held hers at shoulder level, dropped a bit lower than a formal pose. She placed her free hand on his shoulder and he gently pressed on her lower back, pulling her close to him, until she could feel the heat from his chest against her. She smiled up at his face then, before warning, “I am not a very good dancer”

 

“I can tell” he replied, and she took in the small wrinkles at the corners of his eyes that were revealed when he smirked, “But fortunately, I am”

 

He led her smoothly through a simple dance, that involved rocking and spinning slowly across the floor. This close, she could faintly smell his cologne, and feel his muscles as they bunched under his shirt while he expertly moved her around the suite, weaving a spell of contentment. She was unable to stop the smile that lingered on her lips, and was inexplicably pleased to see it mirrored on his face as well. As they worked their way around for a second time, she drew a little closer, and their steps became less precise, Lucius slowly bringing them to a stop where they simply swayed for a moment to the soft music in the background.

 

Her heart stuttered suddenly, surprising her, as she realized for the first time exactly how handsome he was. Without the controlled countenance, and lacking the sneer she'd so often seen, he was actually bordering on beautiful. Soft blue-gray eyes, high cheekbones, well-defined lips and sleek blonde hair, he was the consummate aristocrat. She abruptly understood why they heard tittering laughter, and gleaned appreciative looks wherever they went. His expression was guarded, but gentle as he looked at her, and he reached over to lightly push a piece of hair out of her face and behind her ear. She raised her eyebrows, and he released her, stepping back.

 

Clearing his throat, he looked away for a moment and then back, “I think it's time for me to retire. Goodnight Hermione”

 

“Thanks for the dance lesson, Lucius” she replied, and he nodded succinctly before turning to go to the master suite.

 

Picking up her tome, she settled back onto the couch to do some more reading, the busy hum that normally ran over her thoughts suddenly much quieter.

 

It was many hours later when she finally gave in to the need for sleep, and retreated to her own bed. Her dreams, however, traversed down dark and ominous paths, and she found herself trapped in the forest of dean – this time with the locket, and an unseen nemesis who could find her wherever she went. As she felt her panic rising, and the scream build up in the back of her throat, there were warm hands on her shoulders, softly shaking her. With a start, she awoke, immediately grabbing her wand and pressing it against the silhouette above her's throat. It released her, hands lifted in the air.

 

“It's me, Hermione” came the gravelled baritone, and she blinked rapidly, trying to clear the fog from her head.

 

“Lucius?” she asked, voice husky from sleep. She saw the dark shadow nodded, and she dropped her wand, lowering her body back into the bed.

 

“Are you ok?” he asked. She didn't respond for a moment, and then lifted the edge of her blanket.

 

“Would you....?” she asked hesitantly. There was a long pause, before she felt the bed dip next to her. He moved closer, and she turned on her side, facing him in the dark, unable to make out any features. She felt him then, as he put an arm around her and tucked her closer to him, gently stroking her back and tucking her head under his chin, his beating heart the sound that lulled her back to sleep.

 

She woke up alone the next morning. If the pillow next to her hadn't have borne the indent from his head, and his lingering scent, she would have sworn it was a dream. Lucius, however, didn't acknowledge that anything had happened, and she wasn't sure what to say so she said nothing. They went about their routine, gathering their belongings before they returned to the New York headquarters for the American MLE.

 

Draco had joined them briefly to advise them on their next stop, dark circles under his eyes. Hermione eyed him sympathetically, not envious of the red tape and paperwork she was sure he had faced the night before. He gave her a tired smirk before handing her a ragged baseball cap.

 

“That's your portkey. It's set to leave in 10 minutes, so I suggest you say your goodbyes” he said, yawning and rubbing the back of his head, “The Los Angeles office is already aware you're coming and are looking forward to meeting the both of you. And Carius is cussing up a storm, but tolerating your detour for the time being”

 

Hermione looked over at their New York hosts, reaching out to shake hands with Mason and Stanley, “Gentlemen, it's been a genuine pleasure. Thank you for showing us your home” she said warmly.

 

Mason gave her a cheeky smile, and pulled her in for a hug, “It's a shame you can't stay longer, Hermione. I'd love to give you a real tour” She laughed and slapped his shoulder, pushing away.

 

“Perhaps that's for the best”

 

Lucius's expression was cooler as he shook the younger man's hand, “Yes. Thank you for your assistance” came his more terse farewell.

 

Stanley shook their hands, exchanging similar pleasantries, and then Judith threw her arms around Hermione, squeezing the breath out of her, “Thank you so much, Hermione. If you need anything, feel free to reach out to me any time”

 

Hermione leaned back, holding the other woman by her hands, “No, thank you. Your help was invaluable,” she looked over to the American detectives, “Mason, this woman deserves a promotion”

 

He grinned again, dimples flashing, “Consider it done. Detective Bloom?” Judith's mouth fell open, and she squeaked in response, grabbing Hermione into a fierce hug again.

 

Chuckling, and disentangling herself from the other woman's embrace, she and Lucius reached over to the now alarming portkey.

 

“Draco, you didn't say – what are the names of our contacts in LA?” she asked. The grin he gave her in return could only be described as devilish.

 

“Oh, did I forget that part? Well, tell Thorfinn hi for me” he answered, just as Hermione felt herself get jerked away by her navel.

 

Landing on the ground in LA, Hermione stared at Lucius incredulously, “Did he just say -?”

 

“Princess!” came the booming voice from behind her, and huge arms swept her up into a crushing embrace.

 


	12. Chapter 12

Hermione squeaked as she felt her feet lifted off the ground, and the breath squeezed out of her lungs, before she was released. Her eyes narrowed at Lucius as she hissed, “I'm going to kill your son. Find time to say goodbye to your heir, because he's going to die slowly and painfully for this” before turning around.

 

Thorfinn Rowle was a giant, beast of a man with long, honey brown hair and alarmingly blue eyes. He was handsome, like most heavily muscled, viking type men are fantasized to be, only Thorfinn took it beyond fantasy and into sinful, vivid reality. It didn't help that his arms were lined in tattoos, or that his lips liked to curve into wicked smirks that suggested dirty deeds in broom closets. It really didn't help that beneath all his delightful exterior was also an intelligent mind and dangerously deviant streak that sometimes manifested in fire of unknown origin. Perhaps, both best and worst of all, he was Hermione's dirty little secret.

 

After breaking things off with Ron, and touring her way through some of her old Gryffindor mates, she'd managed to find her way into bed with Thorfinn one night. She'd like to say it was because she'd been drinking, but there wasn't nearly enough alcohol involved to blame it on that. No, Hermione had ended up with knickers around her ankle, and pressed against a wall in her bedroom because Thorfinn was looking at her with that sexy little smirk, and bantering with her on a level she rarely encountered from anyone, all night long. And while she'd planned on him only being a one night stand, they'd instead become friends with secret benefits for the better part of a year and a half. There hadn't been any one reason why they stopped either, it just...had. Consensually, and as abruptly as it had started. And then, just as abruptly, Thorfinn had disappeared.

 

So, to find herself suddenly in front of the man who made her heart do stupid things in her chest, and her knickers become immediately damp, without the opportunity to prepare herself sparked a murderous rage towards one blonde prat who obviously knew more than he'd let on. Which then, drew her suspicions towards said Viking that perhaps he hadn't been as tight lipped about their indiscretions as he'd led her to believe he was. Or, Draco was a pervert, which was equally likely.

 

“Thorfinn??” she asked incredulously, “What in Merlin's name are you doing here?”

 

He grinned at her, full, toothy, like the cat that caught the canary,”Did Malfoy junior not tell you? I've been working for the American MLE for the past 2 years”

 

She narrowed her eyes suspiciously at him, “For two years? This is where you've been?”

 

“Conditions of parole. They wanted help identifying possible sympathizers and shit disturbers before they became a problem. As it turned out, I'm pretty good at my job. So they sent me here” he answered, reaching out to grab to grab her again. She awkwardly ducked out of his way, turning towards Lucius who was quietly watching their interaction.

 

“Mr. Rowle” came his polite greeting, hand extended. Thorfinn's jovial demeanor settled a bit as they shook hands.

 

“Lucius. Good to see you again” he acknowledged politely, “Was surprised to hear you were coming with this one” he thumbed in her direction.

 

Hermione huffed in irritation, while Lucius graced him with a sneer, “Well, given that it's articles from my residence floating about, there's little chance I'd leave it to the MLE alone”

Thorfinn smirked then, a look that she knew meant he was working something out in that over-sized brain of his, and he relaxed his posture before turning to the other person in the room. Hermione winced, embarrassed that she hadn't even noticed there was another occupant. He was shorter than both of the other men, just under 6 foot tall, with a wiry build, close cropped black hair and warm brown eyes. He was fairly unremarkable, except that when he smiled it was kind and boyish, and lit up his whole face as he reached out his arm to greet them.

 

“I'm Detective Russell, but you can call me Chester” he responded. Hermione felt herself reciprocating his smile and she shook his hand firmly.

 

“Hermione Granger, “ she answered, before stepping aside to allow Lucius the opportunity to greet him as well. She was faintly surprised to notice he seemed relaxed, and courteous with the new man unlike the previous detectives.

 

“Mr. Russell, please, tell us, what has Thorfinn let you in on?” he asked.

 

“I've been briefed that you're looking for dark artifacts, and a particular wizard. I also know that there's the risk of some dark magic” he answered in a calm tenor, “Which is why we're working to find any connections behind the scenes already”

 

“I'll tell you two what – are you hungry?” interjected Thorfinn. As if on cue, Hermione's stomach rumbled and her cheeks pinked at the response. Thorfinn laughed, one of his loud, booming laughs, and slung an arm around her shoulder, pulling her against his side unceremoniously, “I'll take that as a yes. Let's go get some breakfast, and we can talk some more over our meal”

 

Chester looked over at Thorfinn appraisingly, tipping his head to the side, “Las Brisas?” he asked.

 

“Las Brisas” affirmed Thorfinn, and Hermione felt herself yanked by her bellybutton for the second time that day as they apparated away.

 

Landing on a side street, surrounding by white stucco buildings, Hermione cursed and pushed her way out of Thorfinn's arm.

 

“Seriously, Thorfinn?” she grumbled at him. He just grinned, reaching out and grabbing her hand in that lack of personal boundaries manner that he always had.

 

“Miss me, Princess?” he asked, tone dropping an octave, eyes on hers. She huffed, and drew back.

 

“Like a bad case of food poisoning” she muttered, “What are you doing here anyway?”

 

“I told you. Condition of parole. And I like it here. A lot less....stuffy than jolly old England”

 

Hermione had to admit, he appeared more relaxed and casual than she could ever recall seeing him in the past, “But why HERE? Why on this case?”

 

“Because I know the Malfoys, and I know what wicked things they used to keep at that prison they call a home. Unlike some of these ponces who only heard little bits and pieces about a war somewhere 'over there', I actually know what happened and what could happen,” he replied, face serious for the first time, “And I know how dangerous Lucius is, even when he's pretending not to be”

Hermione furrowed her brow, “He is not dangerous...”

 

Thorfinn grabbed her chin, forcing her to look him in the eyes, “Yes, Hermione. He is. And don't ever forget it. He's like a wolf on a chain. If he's let loose, no one is safe, not even the hand that feeds him” He released her abruptly as there was a second crack, and Lucius and Chester appeared in the alleyway with them. Lucius had a disquieted expression on his face, which he suppressed as he took in the other two.

 

Hermione knew she was a breath too close to Thorfinn to look completely innocent, though it was mostly because the man had no awareness of personal space. And she knew that she had a disconcerted look, though she was not so quick to hide it. She took a step back, trying to place some room between her past and the words that still rang in her ears, uncomfortable hearing the truth. Thorfinn, of course, recovered easily, beckoning them forward.

 

“Come on, food is this way”

 

They stepped out onto a sunny, two lane road that traversed down a steep hill. There was a gentle, salty breeze, and to the right Hermione could catch peeks of the ocean between the buildings. Interest piqued, she gasped as they passed the last large building, and the view opened up to show the vast expanse of dark blue water, and white sandy beach below them. They were in a coastal town, bustling with life as people up and down the sidewalk. The beach below them sported a wooden boardwalk that separated the shops from the waterfront, snugging up against volleyball courts on one side and a children's playground on the other.

 

“Where are we?” she asked, eyes bright with delight.

 

“Laguna Beach” responded Thorfinn, amusement back in his voice at her response to their surroundings, “Little....well, not so little anymore, coastal city a little south of Los Angeles. It's been an integrated Maj and No-Maj community for years, though the No-Maj population isn't really aware of it”

 

“How do they manage that?” she asked, as Thorfinn tugged her down a pathway to their right.

 

“More questions after food” he answered, dragging them into the restaurant.

 

Breakfast was mostly a courteous affair, full of normal polite conversation about nothing in particular. They were seated on an open patio which afforded them an unobstructed view of the Pacific Ocean, shaded simply by an umbrella over their table. As they finished their meals, Hermione leaned back in her chair, moaning in equal parts delight and discomfort, “That was delicious”

 

Thorfinn gave her one of his wicked smirks, and Lucius regarded her quietly from his seat, sipping on his drink thoughtfully. Chester, the only one whom didn't appear to have any secondary motives, leaned back with an expression of contentment on his features. She was curious about him, he seemed very reserved for a detective and for a wizard, and she didn't feel the same crackle of energy she felt around most magical persons.

 

“Tell me about yourself, Chester” she asked, curiosity begging to be sated. He smiled at her, gesturing with a hand his hand in her direction.

 

“What do you want to know?”

 

“I suppose, for starters, how you managed to get stuck with this big lug?” she started.

 

“Thorfinn was working on a different case, and needed some help. He approached me about some of the contacts I have, and asked if I would be willing to help him. It turned out, we made a pretty good team, and ended up being partnered” answered Chester. Hermione got the feeling he was holding something back, and while she was willing to let it go, Thorfinn took that moment to interject.

 

“Chester here is a muggle – No-Maj” he clarified for his partner. Hermione's eyebrows raised as she looked back at him, and then glanced at Lucius who's own expression appeared unsurprised.

 

“But you apparated here” she argued, and Chester gave her a half grin. Reaching into his pocket he pulled out a gold coin, similar to a galleon but distinct in markings.

 

“When Thorfinn doesn't bring me along, I use this. It's attuned to his location, so all I have to do is grab it and it takes me there. I have to say, it sure as hell beats driving the 405”

 

Hermione reached out for the item, but Thorfinn intercepted it before Chester could give it to her, gracing her with a cheeky smile. Her brows furrowed again, and she pinned him with a glare, “Thorfinn Rowle, where did you get that?”

 

“Huh, you know Princess, I really don't remember” he evaded. She drew in a breath, she had a pretty damned good idea of exactly where he'd gotten it, and how many others there were left behind.

 

“Why does he call you that?” asked Lucius suddenly, and they looked over at the thus far reserved patriarch.

 

“Princess?” clarified Thorfinn, and he nodded. Hermione felt her lips thin, and the heat crawl from her chest up her neck towards her face. The reason was firmly entrenched in an evening of debauchery that may or may not have included some intense role play wherein they'd both been tied up at some point. However, Thorfinn was never one to be terribly embarrassed by what they did in the bedroom, and had taken to using it as a term of endearment even in public despite her many protestations, “Well, we briefly crossed paths at Hogwarts and it seemed like Hermione was destined to be the Gryffindor princess even at the tender age of 11. So, I started it as a way to annoy her. And it stuck” he lied easily.

 

Lucius hummed as if he accepted the answer, for now, even though he gazed at her thoughtfully from across the table. She cleared her throat again, and asked, “So, do you have any good leads?”

 

Chester replied, “I managed to secure an invitation to a local recruitment meeting through some friends. The invitation has the Morsmorde symbol on it, and we're hopeful that the man you're looking for – Antonin is it? Will be there”

 

“And any word on the mirror or the bear?” asked Lucius. Chester and Thorfinn both shook their heads.

 

“Nothing yet, but I've got a couple informants out tracking down information” answered Thorfinn. He sipped a glass of tea, looking out at the ocean below them, “If they're here, we'll find them”

 

Hermione strummed her fingers on the table for a moment, “Thorfinn, were you ever present when the mirror was used?”

 

He nodded affirmatively, “Old no-nose was fond of using it to find his perceived enemies. Used it a few times to track down Order members and a few muggles. Didn't much like it, seemed like it was cheating”

 

Hermione pursed her lips, trying to ignore the fact that he was talking about friends she had lost, and asked, “Do you have any thoughts on how it worked?”

 

He hummed for a moment, “I always figured it worked via version of Hominem Revelio”

 

“That's what I think too. But it doesn't explain how they would be able to see the surrounding environment”

 

“What about a contained Leglimens?” he asked, his face thoughtful, rubbing his chin.

 

“As in looking into the person's mind?” she answered, brow furrowing.

 

“Kind of. More like using their most recent memories to show where they are?”

 

“That would make sense. Were there ever any deviations between what the mirror revealed and the actual location of the person?”

 

“Actually, yes” responded Lucius, “We were looking for someone in a hospital whom had suffered a head blow one time. The details were fuzzy in the mirror, and a few items were not placed as we had seen them. Rodolphus was quite pissed off when he landed on top of a chair that we hadn't expected, and fell on his face”

 

Thorfinn laughed again, snapping his fingers, “That's right! I'd forgotten about that! That grouchy bastard never could laugh at himself”

 

“Well, I wonder if that means we could erect mental blocks against it?” Hermione responded excitedly. Thorfinn nodded.

 

“Occulmency? It would make sense. But that takes a lot of constant magic use, Princess. Would be very draining”

 

She shook her head vehemently, “Not Occulmency. I could do a simple charm to place a single location at the front of your mind. Some place you spend a lot of time so it looks convincing”

 

“I'm not sure how comfortable I am with you going inside my head” chimed in Chester, nervous expression on his face.

 

“I won't really be going into your head. It's just placing a false memory. And I can remove it whenever we have the mirror in possession” she answered.

 

“Hermione here is one of the brightest witches you will ever meet, and incredibly talented. I'd trust her with my life,” said Thorfinn, expression serious as he looked at his partner, “There is no one else I would allow to even attempt something like this”

 

Hermione blushed, for what felt like the 30th time that day, and waved her hand at them, “Look, why don't you think about it? And if you decide you're ok the decision, you can bring me a picture of someplace you spend a lot of time so I can create the memory for you”

 

Chester appeared placated, and nodded at both of them. Hermione glanced at Lucius, finding his eyes on her once again, “I think it's a solid idea, if it works”

 

Thorfinn nodded, “Well, let's get you two settled in to your hotel. We've got a bunch of eyes and ears our trying to dig up information, so we'll contact you two if anything turns up. Hermione, your mobile number still the same?”

 

She nodded affirmatively, ignoring the glare that Lucius was trying to burn into the side of her head. Thorfinn grinned wickedly at her again, before standing and reaching out an arm, “Shall we?”

 

She almost laughed as Lucius stepped between then, grabbing onto Thorfinn's arm and replied, “We shall”

 


	13. Chapter 13

The accommodations were right down the road from where they'd had breakfast, with a promise that they were connected to the Los Angeles headquarters via Floo. When Hermione had questioned their reasons for not just housing them in the city, Thorfinn had tried to explain that it wasn't the same as many of the other big cities. Unlike New York, or Chicago, or even Boston where major landmarks were relatively contained in a small area, Los Angeles was more of a sprawling neighborhood that encompassed an entire region. Most of the iconic landmarks were so far apart that they would need several days to reach them all. There was no centralized location from which to experience LA to the fullest, and with the added adversity of bad traffic and sketchy neighborhoods, it was just easier to stay outside the city.

 

When they'd entered their oceanfront penthouse, she no longer wanted to argue the point anyhow. It had an open floor plan with a full kitchen immediately to the left of the entrance, and a combined living room and dining room directly in front of them. To the far right and the far left were the bedrooms, but the best part of the lodging were the floor to ceiling windows that covered the entire back wall of the room, and opened onto a balcony that overlooked the beach below. Hermione sighed with joy as soon as they walked in, and she'd heard Thorfinn's chuckle over her shoulder.

 

He'd left them to get settled, promising to return with more information as it arrived. For now, he'd just told them to relax and enjoy the locale. Hermione had been all too happy to comply, changing into a light tank top and some jeans to go out and explore the area. Lucius seemed reticent to do much, and waved her on when she'd invited him out.

 

As she approached the main road, she was delighted to see the runes on the shop doors, just as Thorfinn had promised. He'd explained that the runes had a notice-me-not charm on them, so they were not seen by the non magical No-Maj population. If, however, she wanted to see the magical wares of the proprietor in that building, all she had to do was touch the carvings before walking in.

 

The first business she came to appeared to be a muggle clothing store, but one touch of the runes exposed a boutique of the latest wizarding fashions. She was moderately surprised to see, at least in this half of the states, that magical and muggle fashion seemed to be much more mingled, with changes mostly being in added touches such as automatically sparkling jewels, decorative butterflies that fluttered their wings, or dragons that prowled across fabric of muggle style shirts, dresses and trousers. In fact, she'd been so intrigued, that she'd purchased a strapless black sundress with an embroidered phoenix pattern on the skirt that rose from the ashes, turning into the firey bird before exploding and settling back at the bottom again.

 

The art gallery she entered had mostly muggle paintings, but two rooms in the back had also been adorned with runes. In one room were paintings of oceanic life – mostly whales and dolphins, though a few of seals and other fish – that swam within their confines, and even jumping above the acrylic waves at times. In the second room were sculptures of both humans and animals that prowled across their pedestals, striking poses for observers.

 

As she continued her exploration, she found that each store contained slightly different magical goods, ranging from enchanted jewelry to books to sweets. The last one she entered appeared from the outside to be a pet boutique shop, specializing in “natural” foods. On the inside, however, it was a menagerie offering a variety of familiar and unfamiliar beasts. There were the typical rats, a few toads, and some suspiciously half kneazle looking cats. At the very back of the shop were aquariums, set up to show off the various magical marine life. Fish with elegantly long fins that sparkled, small snails that could teleport throughout their own tanks, and in one simple tank by itself a small pixie looking creature that sang while it swirled through the water. However, in the section she expected to find owls, there was a greater variety of birds including crows, blue jays and mynas. As it turned out, owls were not so prominently used in the states, with many people favored corvids and their ilk because not only could they deliver letters, they could also be trained to deliver simple messages back verbally, thus reducing the amount of paper waste. She was impressed by the brilliantly simple solution to a long term problem.

 

By the time she'd reached the bottom of the hill, Hermione was aware of two things. First, it was damned hot despite the coastal breeze, and she needed to purchase some clothing accordingly if they were going to spend any amount of time in the Golden State. Secondly, she was getting hungry again, and the ice cream shop across the main intersection looked incredibly inviting.

 

For once, she didn't bother with the runes as she entered, choosing to imbibe in the simple pleasures of muggle ice cream. After she'd been served, she went back out across the road, and sat on a bench that looked out towards the water. All around were the sounds of children laughing, people chatting, nd cars driving under the overlay of the ebb and flow of the ocean tide. She felt someone sit next to her as she enjoyed her ice cream, not needing to look over to know whom it was.

 

“I would have told you, if I could Princess” came the rough voice. She sighed, dropping her spoon back into her cup.

 

“It doesn't really matter, Thor. It's not like we were...a thing” she responded, eyes on the water.

 

He leaned towards her, moving his head into her peripheral vision, “Weren't we?”

 

A small smile played at the edge of her lips, “Well, I mean, I was a Princess and you were a lonely Stable boy” she teased him. He laughed a little then, reaching his hand over to place it on her knee.

 

She looked at him then, taking in his expression. She knew she echoed some of his wistfulness, and she placed her hand on his before squeezing it, “We had a lot of fun, but we would never work together Thorfinn. We always knew that”

 

He pursed his lips, but nodded concedingly, “I know. There are a lot of reasons we're not right. And just one or two why we are”

 

“Just don't make this too awkward around Malfoy. I think we're actually starting to get along” she warned, wagging her other pointer finger at him from around her ice cream cup. He grinned then, a feral look, and grabbed the cup from her hand.

 

“Now that I can't promise, Princess. There are few games more fun than 'Make the Malfoy Squirm'”

 

“Oh, brother. If you bring up anything about our past, I will deny, deny, deny. They will have to rip my memories from my head before I'll admit to anything we did together” she answered. Thorfinn laughed again, around his mouthful of ice cream,”Ugh, would you please keep your mouth closed, you oaf?”

 

“Viking” he answered, mouth still full, eyes glittering at her.

 

She huffed, “More like Troll”

 

“Only if I can hide under your bridge”

 

She furrowed her brows at him, “That was awful. You've lost your touch, Thorfinn. I'm actually embarrassed to hear those words come out of your mouth”

 

“Oh, Princess, I've lost a lot of things, but I promise you, my touch is exactly the same as always,” he purred, making her shiver a little. She flushed brightly at the insinuation, and grabbed her ice cream back, shoving a spoonful into her own mouth to hide her reaction. He regarded her a moment longer, secret smile on his lips, before he leaned back.

 

“The invitation that Chester secured is for tomorrow evening, around 8. It's being marketed as a DJ club event”

 

“We'll be there, of course. Do you think it's going to be Dolohov or do you think one of his lackeys?” she asked.

 

“Hard to say. Could go either way, but we can't miss out on the lead if he's there” answered Thofinn. She frowned a little.

 

“Do you want me to place the memory charm?”

 

“Tomorrow, before we go. So far, I don't think he knows I'm here. We were always in competition,” he explained, “He wouldn't be able to resist taunting me if he knew. But before we go tomorrow, to cover our asses we should do it”

 

She nodded, and Thorfinn patted her knee before standing up, “See you tomorrow, Princess”

 

Hermione returned to their penthouse a few hours later, having taken some time to do a little shopping on her way back. The sky was starting to change color when she arrived, and she quickly dropped off her purchases in her room before rushing out to the balcony to watch the sunset over the water. In spite of the summer heat, she shivered at the chilly coastal breeze which was dropping rapidly as the daylight dwindled.

 

Leaning over the balcony, she sighed, smiling at the scene before her. It was rare, indeed, that the world was so quiet and balanced for her, and she liked to revel in these moments. The beach spread far below them, white sand lapped at by foamy waves that receded back into their depths. Families and couples strolled along the water's edge, enjoying the last few minutes of sun before twilight bloomed.

 

A glass of white wine appeared under her nose, and her brows lifted before she turned to look at Lucius by her side. Smiling, gratefully, she accepted it from him and took a sip. Light, crisp, a soft peachy flavor, she sighed in appreciation and noted that his lips curved at her response.

 

“What did you do today?” she asked. He shrugged, noncommittally.

 

“Appreciated having a quiet day to myself?” he responded, and she scowled at him even as he hid his smile in his own glass of wine.

 

“I see where Draco gets his pratishness from” she muttered, looking back out over the water.

 

“I choose to take that as a compliment” was the only response. Her lips twitched, “What were you and Thorfinn talking about earlier today?”

 

She furrowed her brows – they'd talked about a lot today, “I'm sorry, you'll have to be a bit more specific”

 

“When we arrived in the alley this morning. You seemed..uncomfortable” he answered, turning to look at her finally, expression guarded.

 

“Oh” she answered, and then breathed,”OH. He was telling me you're dangerous. And to be careful”

 

She shifted nervously, chewing her lip before looking back over at the sun as it dipped lower on the horizon.

 

“I see,” was the terse reply.

 

“I told him you weren't” she blurted, blushing a little. He took in a breath, and let it out.

 

“Thorfinn Rowle is a lot of things. Arrogant, cocky, vindictive, and more than a bit loose with his morals. But he is very rarely wrong,” came Lucius's careful reply. Hermione tipped her head to the side and looked at him again.

 

“Are you?” she asked.

 

“Dangerous?” he clarified, and she nodded, “Very”

 

“Are you dangerous to me?” she asked, hesitantly. He regarded her over the top of his wine glass, that same controlled visage in place for a long moment.

 

“No,” was the only answer. She let out a breath she didn't even know she'd been holding, and looked back as the sun began to dip beneath the horizon.

 

“I meant what I said in New York, Lucius. I trust you with my life”

 

The very top of the sun slipped beneath the cerulean waves in the distance, a green flash before it disappeared for the night. Hermione sipped on her wine again, nervousness fluttering in her gut.

 

“And I, you” came the quiet response by her side. Silently, she slipped her arm under and around his, holding his bicep in her palm as she leaned her head against his shoulder. He stiffened at the touch, before relaxing against her, watching the stars come blinking out as the evening unfurled.

 


	14. Chapter 14

It was well past sunrise when Hermione's mobile rang the next morning, and she excused herself from the breakfast she was sharing with Lucius to answer it on the balcony.

 

“You are playing a dangerous game, ferret” she growled into the microphone. There was a long pause and then

 

“Hermione?” came the timid voice back.

 

“OH! Bollocks, sorry Harry” she replied, apology suffusing her tone.

 

“It's ok. He suggested I call you this morning. I think I know why, now” came the amused response. She could hear laughter in the background.

 

“Yes, well, he knows why I'm annoyed at him. And you can tell him turnabout is fair play” she grumbled back. Harry chuckled and relayed her message, to which it suddenly became quite quiet.

 

“So, any leads?” he asked. She chewed on her thumbnail,

 

“One, so far. A recruitment effort this evening, being masked as a party of some sort. We're planning on attending” she answered. He hummed in response.

 

“All of this makes me very nervous” he replied, “Don't do anything stupid”

 

“Me?” she answered, making her tone as innocent as possible, “I would never!”

 

“Hermione. We both know you think fast, but act faster. Don't get yourself killed trying catch Dolohov. Or those stupid relics. You're more important than all of them”

 

“More important than thousands of lives if things go the wrong way?”

 

“Much more. We can't stop them if we don't have you” came the firm response. She smiled, softly, at the loyalty her friend showed.

 

“I'll call you two tonight with an update. And please pass on the message to Trufeather. I'm sure he's having a canary right now”

 

“I think we've expanded on to Magpies. But, will do. I love you Hermione” came his anxious parting.

 

“Love you too, Harry. Tell ferret face I love him too, but I don't much like him right now”

 

Hanging up the phone, she leaned out and watched the water again. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach, and anxiety chewed at the back of her skull. She hadn't felt this jittery in a long time, and she didn't much like it. Sighing, she returned to the room and Lucius, passing on regards.

 

Her anxiety didn't abate throughout the rest of the day, even as she tried various tactics to settle her mind. Yoga, walking, reading, and even practicing the dance Lucius had showed her. She felt her nerves winding tighter and tighter as the evening drew near, and her patience wearing thin. Lucius, on the other hand, had become scarce, and she had barely seen him after breakfast. It was a surprise to her, then, to see him leave his room at half past seven dressed in entirely muggle clothing.

 

She gaped at him a moment, and he raised a brow at her, “Yes?”

 

“You're....I mean...” she stammered, blushing a little as she couldn't stop her eyes from taking in his form. Dark jeans, a black button up shirt, a leather jacket with worn boots, and his hair tied at the nape of his neck with a leather thong. The stray thought that it should be illegal for someone to look that good in clothes passed through her head, until she caught him smirking at her perusal. Immediately she switched to a scowl.

 

“I figured I should blend in with the crowd” he answered her question, and she nodded mutely. She'd had the same idea, which is why she wore similar attire – skinny jeans that were charmed to be forgiving if she had to move, a form-fitting tee shirt and low heeled boots with a cushioning charm to allow her to run.

 

She was grateful for the distraction of Thorfinn arriving at just that moment, though the tight tee-shirt and perfectly tailored trousers he wore did very little to quell her piquing libido. Internally sighing, she realized she was going to have to stop ogling and actually work around them tonight, too. Grasping her bag, she shrank it down to the size of her palm, and strapped it to the inside of her wrist. Looking over at their new colleague, she continued to scowl at the amused smirk on his face.

 

“How is this going to work?” she snapped, a little sharper than she intended. Thorfinn, however, simply snorted at her, knowing exactly why she was in a mood.

 

“We're going to travel to HQ first, and from there we'll apparate close to the rally spot. We'll walk in the last few blocks so we don't attract any attention” he answered, tone still smug. Hermione huffed a little and nodded, gesturing her head towards the fireplace at the other side of the living area. It appeared to be mostly for show – she doubted anyone had ever used it as there was no sign of soot nor ash or even any fake firewood– but it was convenient for travel. Thorfinn grabbed a handful of floo powder from on the mantle, winking at her as he went through shouting, “Headquarters”

 

As they stepped through to the other side, Hermione was surprised to see that they were in a well furnished building. By the peak she caught through one of the office windows, it appeared they were several stories up in a high rise in the heart of Los Angeles. She glanced around, taking in the very modern looking office that was complemented with No-Maj technology such as telephones, computers, televisions, and coffee machines. She raised an eye a Thorfinn, who grinned back at her toothily.

 

“I know, it's quite different from New York” he answered her silent query, “Los Angeles found itself integrating No-Maj technology much faster due to it's more common use. It's not just the city of dreams for muggles, but also for wizards. Lots of magical and non-magical people migrate here to become from all over the world to become famous. With the advent of each new technological advance, the bigwigs in the entertainment industry jumped right on top of the easier way to interact with their clients. And the law enforcement agencies found they had to adapt, or scramble to catch up”

 

Hermione nodded as she looked around, taking in memos floating through the air along with personnel typing furiously on their computers. In one room, a detective was scribbling notes down on a pad of paper, and his keyboard typing by itself next to him to copy the notes into a text document. There were the typical oddities that surrounded wizarding life all around, but tempered by the modern luxuries of 21st century life. She found it deeply satisfying to see them working side by side.

 

Chester popped his head out of a room down the hall, beckoning them in. They filed in to the office, rectangular in shape and surrounded with floor to ceiling windows. On the table before him were two card stock invitations. The first was maroon in color with black type, the Morsmorde on the bottom right corner. The second, for the same night and location, was black with white type, and no symbol. Hermione frowned immediately.

 

“One of my contacts got me the first invitation the night before you two arrived. The second came across his desk yesterday in a professional capacity, and he had the presence of mind to pass it on to me when he realized locations and dates were the same” said the lanky man. Hermione frowned as she looked at the two cards.

 

“I wonder why the difference?” she muttered, before looking at the other three men. Lucius had a sharp frown on his face, and Thorfinn looked a little pale. Putting two and two together, she grimaced.

 

“One is for recruitment, and one is to gather No-Majs...isn't it?” she asked. Thorfinn didn't respond, but Lucius thinned his lips and nodded, “Well, this changes things”

 

“We still need to go,” said Thorfinn, “We might not ever get a chance to get this close to Antonin again”

 

Hermione nodded briskly and straightened, turning to look at Thorfinn, “It's time to do this,” she said while reaching for his temples, “Where do you want to be?”

 

He eyed her closely for a moment, a small grin on his lips before saying, “Let's put me in the Leaky. Would be the most believable” She grinned back at him, before closing her eyes and imagining the inside of the bar with vivid detail. Whispering the words to the enchantment, she placed it in a box and slipped it into his mind before drawing herself out. Thorfinn rubbed his eyes a moment, blinking, before nodding at her, “Do you think it worked?”

 

She looked over at Lucius, who tilted his head at her before nodding at her silent request. She saw him mouth the words Leglimens, and close his own eyes. A moment later they opened and he nodded, “So long as I don't probe very deeply, I see only the Leaky”

 

She stepped over to Chester then, and asked, “Are you ok with me doing this?”

 

He drew in a shaky breath and then nodded, “Here. I brought a picture of a park I go to frequently”

 

He withdrew a muggle photograph of a park from his pocket and shoved it towards here. She looked at it carefully, memorizing details such as the baseball field, children's jungle gym and pepper trees before creating the charm to capture it. Gently, she placed her fingers on his temples as well, slipping it into place. Unlike Thorfinn, however, the process was sticky and felt like she was working around other spell work. Curiously, she probed forward, and immediately dropped out. Her brow furrowed at him, and she turned to look at Thorfinn who was watching her cautiously. He shook his head at her subtly, and she frowned but let it drop for now. She could grill him later about the walls that had been erected. Looking back at Chester she could see his eyes come back into focus and he grinned nervously at her, “I guess that wasn't so bad”

 

She smiled tightly at him, “Glad to help,” and then she looked back over at Thorfinn, “I already took care of Lucius and myself last night. We are ready to go”

 

He nodded, and ushered them out of the room and onto an elevator that took them to the ground floor. Once outside, Hermione was able to turn and look up at the building, exclaiming in surprise, “City Hall?”

 

Thorfinn grinned again, “Yeah. It's all muggle business, except floor 14 1/2”

 

She laughed then, allowing him to take her arm and apparate to their destination. Moments behind them were Lucius and Chester. Chester took lead then, guiding them up the road and across the street towards a large, factory type building. In front, there were two stations set up for screening people, and two entry points for invitees. Thorfinn began pressing forward, but Hermione grabbed his arm and pulled back.

 

“Wait,” she said nervously, “If we go in like this, Chester is going to be alone”

 

“Suggestions?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at her. She chewed on her lip a moment, and sighed, before turning to Lucius.

 

“You're too obvious, “ she said, “Dolohov will recognize you from a mile away” She slipped the same bracelet out of her pocket she'd used on him in New York, clasping it around his wrist and activating it with her thumb. The same blue eyes, high cheekbones and black hair faced her again and she squeezed his hand before releasing him, “Chester needs someone to protect him. Which means he needs someone who can pass as muggle and non-magical”

 

Lucius frowned sharply, the expression more severe on his borrowed features, “Hermione” he warned. She shook her head at him, before placing the clip in her hair and swiping vertically on the band this time. She knew she now she appeared close to her actual age, but with straight auburn hair and green eyes. She put her hand into the bag around her wrist, grasping a simple silver ring that she slid into place over her right thumb. Lucius reached out, capturing her wrist, fingers wrapping around the ring as he attempted to remove it, “No. I'm not letting you do this”

 

She reached up with her free hand, placing it over his frantic actions, “You don't get to make that decision. I'm the only one who can remove the ring. And it's just going to suppress my magic while I'm wearing it. I'll take it off when we get inside, as soon as it's safe to do so”

 

He growled at her, dropping her hand and creating fists at his sides, “You damned Gryffindors. You cannot take on everyone”

 

“I'm not going to,” she answered, and glanced back at Chester and Thorfinn who were watching the exchange curiously. She quirked an eyebrow at Thorfinn, and he cleared his throat, grabbing his partner by the shoulder and leading them out of hearing distance. Twisting herself so that the other two couldn't see what she was doing, Hermione reached into her pocket and pulled out two fake galleons. She lifted his left arm, and when he opened his fist she dropped one into his palm, “We can use these to communicate. If there's a problem, it'll warm up and deliver a message”

 

His expression remained unhappy, but he appeared mildly placated. He closed his fingers around the golden coin, eyes piercing hers as he stepped suddenly closer, forcing her to tilt her head back to not break contact, “Do not do anything stupid, Hermione. If you have any trouble, you tell us immediately. I will get to you, no matter what”

She nodded, a nervous smile on her lips as he reached up, his left palm warm as he cupped her cheek and rubbed it with his thumb. As quickly as it happened, he released her, and they turned to join the others. She smiled at Chester, and slipped her arm around his,

 

“Ready, partner?” she asked. He smiled, that same boyish grin, and tugged her forward.

 

“Always”

 

She glanced over her shoulder as they approached the checkpoint, catching Lucius's eyes briefly as they approached the other entrance. Turning back, she noted the men who were screening attendees were large, and burly, but not particularly menacing. They accepted the invitation that Chester held out, and then waved a metal detection wand over each of them. The security officer to her right pointed to the bag around her wrist, and she slipped it off, handing it over. Reaching in, he blanched as he pulled out the sanitary napkin she'd charmed into place earlier that evening. Blushing, he shoved it back in and thrust the bag back at her. She smiled serenely at him, and stepped forward to grab Chester's arm again before entering the building.

 

As it appeared from the outside, the building was likely a warehouse that was being repurposed for the evening's events. They entered from the back of the storeroom, which expanded approximately 50 feet in front of them to end at a stage that had been erected with music equipment on it. Hermione took stock of the situation – there were two exits at the back including the one she'd just walked through and one that was guarded by a rather menacing looking man who was dressed in all black. In the middle of the room were two double doors on either side, but these were also being flanked by two men each. There were no other obvious entryways, and she had a feeling they weren't just going to let her walk around looking for the facilities.

 

As it stood, there were easily 200 people in the room already, and more arriving behind her. She chewed on her lip nervously. As she looked at the faces present, she locked eyes with a tall, dark skinned man who was lingering towards the back of the room. From his expression, she surmised he was recognizing the same thing she was – there was no actual way to escape this room. Her eyes scanned up, noting there were windows at the top of the back wall, but no other exits. Bringing her gaze back down she saw the back of a dark haired woman 10 feet away who was also examining the room, and starting to ease her way backwards.

 

Turning towards Chester, she could see in the grim set of his mouth he knew what was going on as well. Just as their eyes met, there was a loud crash, and they were thrust into darkness.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have chapter 15 started, but it will be a few days before it's finished and posted. My husband and I have had matching schedules for the past few weeks, which is about as great as it is annoying. Something to be said for having some days off by yourself sometimes ;) Don't worry though, more is coming!


	15. Chapter 15

As their world turned black, Hermione immediately grabbed Chester's hand and yanked him close to her, “Stay close!” she hissed in his ear. He clasped her hand, and they pressed their shoulders against one another as the room fell into a long, deep silence. Hermione felt her breath hitch, and palmed the golden coin in her pocket, trying to decide when she should call Lucius for help.

 

Just as her nerves drew taught, a single purple light flickered on at the front of the room, and cheers erupted from around them. In the dim illumination she caught Chester's eye, her own uneasy expression reflected in his. A second green light flickered into life, and her attention snapped forward. The was movement, and a person cloaked in black stalked across the stage. As he approached the equipment in the middle, the cheers dimmed, dulling to a murmurous roar.

 

When the figure turned towards the crowd, and lifted his head, Hermione felt her heart drop to her knees. There was no mistaking the cruel, silver mask that adorned his face. “Death eater” she breathed, unsure if Chester could hear her over the noise in the room. It seemed she was the only person present familiar with the symbol, however, because the rest of the mass cheered at the shroud as it was illuminated in purple light.

 

There were no words spoken. No exclamations of purity, no declarations of worth, no explanations. They just stood there, silent, in the light for a long enough that it became uncomfortable. Long enough that the crowd fell silent again, and no more were there cheers but whispers. And muttering. And the restless shifting of people in the audience who were suddenly no longer certain of their safety. Who became nervous, and conscious of their inability to escape. Hermione realized, with a sick surety, this was what was intended. The recognition of mortality. Sweeping her eyes across the room once more, she noted that the persons who were guarding the doors were now all wearing masks as well.

 

As the mood switched from exultant to anxious, the lights flickered out again. This time, there were screams. This time, there was terror. She couldn't see anything, but she could feel the mass of bodies beginning to shift and rush towards the back of the room. Hermione grasped the coin in her hand and whispered frantically into it “Death Eaters” even as she shoved Chester unceremoniously against the wall to their left.

 

The darkness in the room was so absolute she was sure it was enhanced by magic. There was the sound of movement around her, but she could see nothing. She grasped the silver ring on her thumb, pulling it off and shoving it into one of her pockets. She was not going down without a fight, and she would not allow those in this room to be taken either. Next to her, she could hear Chester fumble, and then a small light blossomed into existence – his phone she realized. It was barely able to penetrate into the gloom, but it illuminated his face and she could see the true terror in his expression. She couldn't imagine how he felt, unable to defend himself, given her own fear at the situation.

 

Suddenly, there was music, and the room was lit up once more by strobing colored lights at the stage. The panic that had commenced so quickly and thoroughly, was extinguished almost as rapidly, and there was a rush back towards the stage. Hermione's own dread only heightened, further fed by the development in their surroundings. No longer was it so quiet she could hear the rustle of fabric while people moved. Now, it was so loud she could barely hear herself think. The strobing lights on the stage were accented by a white strobe light that flickered on the crowd in short bursts, giving flashes to the unfolding scene around them.

 

Bodies dancing, reckless of the danger they were in. Masked faces infiltrating the crowd. A body, suspended in green light in the air. A body, writhing on the ground. A person smuggled through a side door. A flash of a mask directly in her face, causing her to jump backwards, rapping her elbow on the unforgiving wall behind her. A woman being dragged through the crowd.

 

Hermione felt her anxiety spiking. The strobe effect was making it hard for her to pick out targets, and determine what was going on around her. She was desperate to find some way to get them out. The thumping bass pressured her eardrums and head, making it hard to concentrate. In the flashes of light, she could just barely make out the small sprinkler heads above them. She took a deep breath, focusing on the spell she would need to cast. It wouldn't be enough to simply trigger one. She would have to trigger them all.

 

As she began to cast the spell, someone jostled her, causing her to lose her concentration and her hold on Chester simultaneously. Surprised, she looked forward, but couldn't see anyone. In the next flash of light, she could see that her muggle friend was no longer next to her. Panic struck, like lightening to her heart.

 

“CHESTER!” she screamed, the sound drowned out in the cacophony around her. Muted by discord, she realized the reason for the music was not to distract, but to cover up any undesirable noise. She shoved forward, pushing her way into the crowd, desperate to find the man she'd intended to protect. In a flash she saw a glimpse of short dark hair being dragged towards the stage. In another, two man grabbing lean shoulders, shoving them up the stairs. And then the flashes stopped.

 

It was dark, though the music continued, and she could feel the jostle of bodies dancing around her, bumping into her. She stood, frozen, unsure of what to do for what felt like an eternity, enthralled with the sheer terror of what was happening around her. The desire to use her wand was pitted against her fear of being outnumbered and overwhelmed before she could get to Chester. She felt someone on the ground by her feet, knowing by the thrashing of their body that they were being tortured. She groped down, blindly, trying to feel for them and pick them up, but there was nothing to be found.

 

Hermione gritted her teeth, willing the tears at the corners of her eyes to go away. Taking in a deep breath, she gathered her wits. She was Hermione Granger. She had faced Voldemort. She'd survived a curse that had killed everyone before her. She could fight this. As her resolve strengthened, the music dulled, caught in a bridge, and a red light flashed into existence before them.

 

Suspended, in a prone position, 20 feet above them, was Chester's motionless body. It was turned, slowly, as if he was being roasted on a spit as the contrasting music droned on in a hypnotic lull, pacifying the frantic crowds around her. Slowly, they stopped their frenetic dancing, all eyes on the scene before them. Hermione watched, hypnotized, as he continued to turn a full rotation.

 

The return to darkness and raised music snapped Hermione out of her daze. She cursed, loudly, and pushed her way to the edge of the crowd where she wouldn't be bumped or jostled. Drawing on her courage, she shouted out a spell that spurted out of her wand and set off fireworks above the crowd. The muggles cheered at the sight, and the magical pyrotechnics remained bright above them longer than they should have. Hermione was, for the first time, able to observe the entire scene. There was a mass of people in the front and center of the room, dancing wildly. Dispersed amongst them were masked men, engaged in various acts of depravity – a man at the feet of one, a woman pressed against the wall by another, another man who appeared to be in the process of being beaten by a third and fourth. Chester's body was lying on the stage, no longer dangling in there air, but still un-moving. She could count 10 masked men in total, before the room dimmed again.

 

She knew they would be coming for her now. Reaching up for her clip she swept her thumb in a circle around it, shifting her features once more. Pin straight black hair, squarer jaw, brown eyes and a snub nose. She knew that if Lucius was coming he wouldn't recognize her, but maybe he could save the others. She jammed her wand back into it's holster at her waist, replacing the ring on her thumb to avoid identification and rushed for the front of the room blindly.

 

As she reached the stage a cold chill crawled up her spine, and she shivered uncontrollably. Her stomach churned, and she reached for Chester's arm, somehow knowing without knowing that there were now dementors in their midst. She knew she would have to oust herself again soon to save them, but at this moment she had to get her partner out of danger. She was just able to grab his wrist where it was sprawled out towards her, and she yanked firmly, trying to get his body closer to her. It barely slid, and she cursed, trying to pull again.

 

An arm reached over her head, and she jumped in surprise, looking up into the eyes of the tall black man she'd seen earlier. He looked at her, his expression quiet but his eyes full of the same fear hers had. She gave him a tight, questioning smile and he nodded in return. She stepped off to the side as he reached forward, his height and arm length giving him the advantage to grab the other man more fully and pull him off the stage. He grasped Chester before he fell, bonelessly to the ground, and she put her hands on his neck, relieved to feel the faint pulse at his jawline. Looking up at the tall man, she beckoned him down towards her.

 

“Take him to the back of the room!” she shouted in his ear, “I'll get us out of here” His expression was quizzical, but he nodded in affirmation before shoving his way through the crowd. Hermione took a deep breath, removing the ring once more. The cold was getting deeper, and she could hear faint screams around her. The hair raised on the back of her neck, and she brandished her wand, shouting “Expecto Patronum”

 

The bright burst of her Patronus lit up the room once more, and Hermione was shocked to see three dementors weaving amongst the crowd as her otter chased them away. How the blood hell did they get dementors here of all places? There was little time to ponder the question as masked faces in the crowd turned towards her.

 

Before she could think much more about it, the cold that had been seeping into her bones was replaced with a searing heat. She looked up in a alarm to see the wall on the right side of the room was turning a magma orange color and wavering with heat. She cursed inwardly at her viking friend – fiendfyre was not what they needed right now. She threw up a protection shield just as the top of the wall exploded inwards towards them, covering the inhabitants below them as chunks of charred stone bounced harmlessly off of it.

 

Chaos broke loose, and the crowd turned hysterical at the explosion. People began to rush for the back doors, and Hermione realized that someone was going to get hurt if she couldn't get the doors opened. The only benefit of the crowd rushing was that no one could get to her. She jumped up onto the stage, raising her wand and yelling, “BOMBARDA!”

 

The wall between the two doors in the back blew outward, allowing in a rush of night air even as people streamed out through it. Hermione breathed a sigh of relief, renewing her shield overhead as fire trickled into the room, setting off the sprinklers for the first time. Smoke and steam swirled thickly in the air around her as she jumped down and rushed towards the exit with the others. The acrid atmosphere landed heavily in her lungs and she struggled to breathe.

 

From amidst the man made fog, faces appeared – masked as they attacked her. A small blessing was that they had to get close enough to her to cast a spell, which meant dueling in close quarters – something she was well versed at. One attempted to grab her from behind, but she butted his nose with the back of her head before turning and binding him. The other lept out of the smoke to her right, shooting a red curse at her. She deftly countered it, and stupefied him. A third rushed her from the front, to which she petrified him. The fourth curse, however, came from within the smoke, and sliced into the triceps of her wand arm. This one, she knew was different.

 

Hermione pressed forward, knowing her only real escape would be out. Dolohov was more experienced than she was at fighting from the shadows. If he identified her, he would kill her and she would never see him. A final press forward saw her through the heavy smoke, and coughing, she stumbled into the rubble of the wall she'd knocked down, falling to her knees. Before her was a scene of confusion – muggles covered in smoke and debris, milling about even as emergency vehicles screamed onto the scene.

 

“Hermione Granger” came the cold voice from behind her. She stood, spinning on her heel to face the man who'd played the villain in so many of her dreams.

 

He stood, half exposed, half hiding in the smoke, that same long dark hair, hooded eyes, and cruel smile on his face. He was tall, long limbed, and lean as though he subsisted on dark magic alone. She reached into her hair, pulling the clip out and shoving it into her pocket. Clearly, it was no longer needed. He laughed, cruelly, as she exposed her true face to him, defiant in her stance.

 

“It's been a long time,” he said. She huffed in annoyance, firing a stunning spell at him. She was not going to listen to some madman's ramblings, “I'm glad to see you survived our first encounter. And second”

 

“Shut up, Dolohov” she growled back, voice thin and gravelled from smoke inhalation. He grinned, a hungry expression as he stepped towards her, clouds swirling at his feet. She didn't hear the curse, but barely managed to jump aside as it sliced past her and cut deep rivulets into the pavement behind her. They fought then, curse to counter curse, evenly matched. He managed to knick her cheekbone with a slicing hex that burned, and she retaliated with a spell that took his feet out from underneath him. He looked surprised as his knees hit the pavement, and she took the moment to fire a binding spell at him. His eyes were wide as it hit him, though he managed to throw himself backwards into the screen of smoke and mist.

 

She cussed, lunging forwards to catch him before he managed to find a way out of their predicament again. As she leaped forward back into the building, strong arms wrapped around her waist, and there was a sharp tug at her naval as the warehouse disappeared from view.

 


	16. Chapter 16

Hermione found herself deposited on the dark blue couch of her hotel room as soon as the world stopped moving again. She made a noise of protest, attempting to stand immediately, and found herself blocked by an arm above her head. She furrowed her brow, looking up into the bright blue, and extremely angry and scared eyes of one disguised Lucius Malfoy above her. Her protest died on her lips, surprised to see the expression on his face.

 

“What were you thinking?” he hissed, shoving his face towards her. She opened her mouth to answer, but was immediately taken over by a coughing fit. Her lungs spasmed, and she doubled over, wrapping her arms around her waist.

 

There was another crack, and Thorfinn popped into existence, dropping a still unconscious Chester onto the couch next to her. Her eyes narrowed at the big man, and she pointed at him accusingly while still coughing. He narrowed his eyes back at her, and scowled, “I was trying to save you!”

 

“You almost got us killed!” she managed to wheeze out, before coughing again. Lucius glowered at both of them, straightening up.

 

“You both are a bunch of idiots!” he snapped, crossing his arms across his chest. Hermione and Thorfinn made identical sounds of protest, just as there was another crack of apparation.

 

Hermione squeaked, jumping to her feet and firing off an Incarcerous spell at the masked man who landed in the middle of their room. He was bound, and strapped to the opposite wall before he could even manage a faintly annoyed, “OI!”

 

“Oh, for fucks's sake Hermione. Release him!” snapped Thorfinn, leaning over his partner.

 

“Hermione-” started Lucius.

 

“Why should I?” she asked between spasms, abused lungs protesting as she tried to talk. Lucius reached towards her, and she ducked under his arm.

 

“Because that's Walden Macnair. He came along to help tonight,” growled back Thorfinn. Hermione leaned over, coughing harder. Lucius grasped her forearm, but she wriggled out of his fingers.

 

“He's tellin' the truth,” came the muffled voice from under the silver mask. Hermione glowered at it menacingly, placing her hands on her knees as she tried to draw in clean air.

 

“Hermione- “ started Lucius again. She shook her head.

 

“Why should I believe you? I saw what the others were doing in that room” she snapped back, lungs abating their convulsions for a brief moment. There was a growl from the wall.

 

“Because if I wanted to hurt you I already would have!” he spat back, struggling against his bonds

 

“Hermione-”

 

“Thus why you're bound and stuck to the bloody wall!” she snapped, breaking into a coughing fit again.

 

“Would you please release the man, Princess?” came Thorfinn's pleading voice as he cast several complex diagnostic spells.

 

“Why didn't you tell me that he was coming?” she shot back, not acknowledging the request.

 

“HERMIONE, SIT DOWN!” roared Lucius, his face suddenly in front of hers. Surprised, she stepped back, and fell onto her bottom on the couch.

 

“Who's that?” asked the dampened voice from the other side of the room. A noise of irritation left Lucius's mouth as he ripped the silver bracelet off his wrist and chucked it across the room. Hermione let out her own indistinct noise of protest, but was silenced by the harsh gray eyes that pinioned her to her seat. Mutely she lifted her wand and released their prisoner, who stumbled onto his knees.

 

“Oh, great Granger. Thanks for that” he snapped at her, pulling cloak and mask off. Walden Macnair ran a hand through salt and pepper hair as he stood again, agitation evident on his face. A little older than Lucius, he was almost as tall as Thorfinn, but not quite as broad and had a weathered face with soft brown eyes. Despite showing his age, and the abuse of their former master, more acutely than the other two he could still be considered handsome in a weathered sort of way.

 

“Be glad I let you keep your bullocks” she snipped back. Lucius ran a hand through his own hair, the look on his face murderous.

 

“Hermione, do stay quiet for a moment” he rumbled at her before taking out his own wand and using it to run some minor diagnostic spells of his own. She frowned sharply at him, having essentially been told to sit down and shut up by the stately man. Macnair apparently picked up on it as well, and he snorted and smirked at her as he stood. She scowled back at him.

 

“Amazing, someone who can finally get the great and powerful Granger to shut the fuck up” came the older man's acerbic commentary. She responded with a two finger gesture, which was answered by one of his own. Lucius's glare settled her in her spot again, with the only consolation being that he turned it back on MacNair when the older man laughed at her.

 

“Walden,” he growled, menacingly. Hermione was surprised to see the older man lift his hands in front of his chest in mock surrender. She eyed him curiously, straightening her posture unconsciously as Lucius turned back and focused his attention on her. His eyes softened just a touch as he gently grasped her jaw in his fingers, turning her head to one side. His gaze landed at her hairline, and he reached up with his left hand, tracing a spot that made her hiss and then cough again. He frowned sharply, before murmuring a spell that she could feel knit her skin closed again. He repeated the gesture on her right triceps where she'd been caught by Dolohov's slicing hex, before handing her a potion he'd pulled from his own pocket and resized. She raised an appreciative eyebrow at him, earning a small smile before she tipped it back.

 

As the foul concoction slid down her throat she could feel her chest ease, and with the next cough she was surprised to see a small puff of dust and smoke expelled into the air and fall to the ground. Immediately, she could breathe easily again, and she smiled more fully just as her body was taken over by racking tremors. “Oh, for fuck's sake” she muttered, reaching for her own bag and the potion she always carried with her.

 

She could feel the eyes of all three conscious men in the room on her as she downed the second potion, shaking subsiding to the residual shivers that always seemed to follow one when they'd come in contact with dementors. Not for the first time she marveled at how Lucius had been able to stay sane after his stay in Azkaban. Brief encounters left her feeling chilled for hours, she couldn't imagine prolonged exposure. Looking up again, she caught a remorseful expression on his face as he regarded her. She frowned sharply back at him in irritation – there was nothing he could do to change the past.

 

“I didn't know you had been crucioed” came MacNair's voice. She raised a surprised eyebrow at him.

 

“Were you the only person not in that room?” she asked incredulously. He had the grace to look at least a little embarrassed at her question.

 

“It was late in the war. We were out rounding up people and doing whatever else we could to get out of that damned house. I knew you'd been caught, but you were gone before we arrived. The details of your capture and escape were...ah..glossed over” he responded evasively.

 

“I suppose losing the Chosen one and his plucky sidekicks to the machinations of a house elf didn't make for great dinner conversation” she answered, a small smirk on her face.

 

“No” Thorfinn answered acerbically, “But it was certainly fodder enough to ensure we all carry around those little vials with us”

 

Hermione winced and fell quiet at his admission. She knew, logically, that they had been subjected to torture while in the service of Voldemort. Knowing, however, that they had been subjected because of her made her feel very uncomfortable and unworthy. She gave Lucius a contrite look and he shook his head at her.

 

“You were just another in a long line of excuses,” he reassured her, “If it hadn't have been you escaping, it would have been something else” She did not feel particularly comforted by the thought. Clearing her throat she looked back at Thorfinn.

 

“What's wrong with Chester?” she asked gently. He looked over at her, irritation replaced by genuine concern.

 

“I'm not sure. He's been made catatonic, but it's a spell I've never seen before” he admitted, his broad shoulders slumping in defeat. Walden grunted

 

“Fucking Dolohov”

 

“MacNair, can you actually form sentences or are you only capable of using four letter words?” snapped Hermione cheekily. To her surprise, the older death eater chuckled and eyed her appreciatively.

 

“Well. Now I know why they wanted you alive”

 

She ignored him, and kneeled next to Thorfinn, “Have you tried a Finite?” she asked. He fidgeted.

 

“No” he hedged, “But...”

 

“But, there's a reason why his head looks like a storage bin isn't there?” she asked him. He had the good grace to look a little guilty as he nodded back at her.

 

“Chester had a past” he answered, shoving a hand into his own long locks, “He was looking for a reason to leave it behind. Told me he'd join up if I could make him forget”

 

She gaped at him, “And you AGREED?”

 

He shrugged, “It seemed reasonable at the time. It wasn't until we'd gotten through all the introductions and orientation and training that he told me exactly what he wanted hidden. I wouldn't have agreed if I'd known about the kids”

 

Lucius became very still next to her, his voice ice cold, “The kids?”

 

Thorfinn looked even more repentant as he continued, “Turns out, he was married and had a bunch of kids. But he had been so miserable with his professional life, and so convinced that no one loved him he was ready to leave it all behind. By the time I knew we were so far in there wasn't a good way to get him back out. So, we set it up to look like... Well, suffice it to say Chester is missed by his family. But he wouldn't recognize his kids if they walked up to him on the street”

 

The room was silent for a moment. Hermione was sure her jaw was placed somewhere on the floor. Lucius had become very quiet, before he turned sharply on his heel and simply walked out the back door to the balcony. Thorfinn cursed beneath his breath just as MacNair let out a low whistle.

 

“Fuck” was all the older man could say. Hermione shut her mouth sharply, and turned to look after Lucius with concern in her eyes.

 

“Shit” muttered Thorfinn, “He's going to be so pissed at me”

 

“Lucius?” she asked. He looked at her curiously before nodding.

 

“Narcissa?” he asked. She furrowed her brow in confusion, “Oh hell. Princess, I didn't tell you this but Cissa didn't die. She committed suicide”

 

Hermione felt her mouth drop open in shock for the second time in as many minutes, “Narcissa?” she squeaked. The beautiful woman who had everything together? Who had the perfect life and perfect home and perfect family? Who was exonerated after the war and had everything to look forward to?

 

Thorfinn expelled a long breath, “That's all I can tell you. Lucius will tell you more when...if he ever decides he wants to”

 

Hermione closed her eyes and pressed her fingers to the bridge of her nose. The night was a fucking mess, “Finite him Thorfinn. Then take him to the hospital, get him patched up, and replace whatever is in your contract. We can talk more in the morning about tonight”

 

Thorfinn didn't even bother to argue, casting the spell silently. The smaller man came to life with a gasp in front of them. As soon as he saw the two wizards, he wailed and dropped his head into his hands. Hermione balked – apparently he'd not only been memory charmed, he'd also been glamoured to hide his extensive tattoos and scars. Thorfinn sighed and gave her an apologetic look as he grasped his partner in his hands and disapparated with a crack.

 

Hermione hedged a look over at MacNair. He'd pulled his robes off after his mask, and was eyeing her curiously, “You and Malfoy, eh?”

 

“You can sleep on the couch MacNair” she answered, before going out onto the balcony.

 

It was chilly, and the coastal breeze was strong as it blew through her clothing. She shivered as she carefully approached the blonde man standing at the furthest corner, staring out at the moon that hung over the rippling waves. She stood next to him quietly for a moment, arms wrapped around herself, waiting for him to acknowledge she was there.

 

“Thorfinn told you” came his hollow voice. She nodded, and stepped closer.

 

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked softly, looking up at his face. He didn't look back at her, but she could see the wetness gathered at the corner of his eyes. Without thinking, she wound her arms around his waist, pressing herself against him even as she pulled him into her embrace. She felt him startle against her, before he settled an arm around her shoulders and tucked her into his side. She felt him draw in a shuddering breath, and swallow hard, before shaking his head above her. She knew it was all the answer she would get.

 

She held him, quietly, for a long time, allowing him to draw any comfort he might want from her. She knew the ache of losing family, knew there was nothing to say that would make it better. Her chest felt hollow, empathy gnawing at her for the stoic wizard. She had lost her parents due to her own folly, but couldn't imagine what it would feel like if they had willingly left her. She felt him put his chin on the top of her head, and she turned her face to press her cheek against his chest. The hand around her shoulders stroked her back, soothing her as much as himself.

 

As he stilled again she pulled back, reluctantly and looked back up into his face. This time, he was looking back at her, an indiscernible expression present. He reached up with his free hand, smoothing an errant curl back behind her ear. She shivered again, though this time she knew it had nothing to do with the cold. His eyes were trained on hers, watching her solemnly. He leaned forward, and she closed her eyes as he descended towards her. She felt his lips brush her forehead, and then her cheek, breath hitching as they touched her jawline. He released her then, hands gripping her upper arms firmly before setting her gently away from him.

 

She opened her eyes again, noting the softness in his own as a small smile played at her lips. She ducked her head, turning and heading back into the penthouse. She waved mutely at MacNair before retreating into her room and showering.

 

Long after, when she'd climbed into bed and fidgeted restlessly under the covers, she heard the door to her room open and click closed quietly again. She furrowed her brows in the dim light, recognizing Lucius only by the blonde hair on his head. He lifted the sheets, and slipped silently into the bed next to her before grabbing her again and pulling her against him, her front against his side. She sighed, contentedly, as she settled around him, listening to his heartbeat once more as it lulled her into sleep.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hot off the press! Sorry for any editing issues :) I have time off this weekend (thank goodness) so I should have some more chapters to post over the next few days!


	17. Chapter 17

Hermione woke early the next morning to an already empty bed. She sighed, knowing she should have expected as much. The sheets next to her were still a bit warm, telling her he hadn't left long ago. She reached out, letting her hand stretch across the spot where Lucius had been. She'd appreciated his presence the night before, and she suspected he'd needed her there.

 

She sighed again as she lingered in the sheets. But that wasn't just it, was it? There was tension there, suddenly, that hadn't been there before. The long looks, the gentle touches. They'd been comfortable acquaintances for quite some time now, but it had never moved beyond that. Now, she wasn't sure if it was due to their close proximity for an extended period, or the stress of the situation, but she was starting to see the older Malfoy in a new light. It was, for lack of a better word, disconcerting.

 

Truthfully, she didn't know how she felt about it. And she wasn't sure if she was just reading too much into his actions or if he, too, was starting to see her as a potential partner rather than just some bossy witch he needed to help him from time to time. Clearly, they'd crossed some sort of threshold as he'd spent the night in her bed. Twice. But what did that threshold mean?

 

Determined to not obsess more than she already was, she turned her thoughts over to the events of the previous night. She could hear some muted activity outside of her bedroom, and with another sigh climbed out of bed and into the shower.

 

Freshly scrubbed, and mind more settled, she exited into the main living area of the penthouse to see the three former Death Eaters sitting around the small coffee table in the kitchen. She tried, and failed, to hide the small smile on her face at the imposing men participating in something so domestic as sipping tea and reading the morning paper. A vision of them dressed in masks and robes, while doing so came to mind unbidden and a small giggle slipped out of her mouth before she could control it.

 

All three men turned at the noise simultaneously, and a smile spread across her face as she crossed the room to join them. Thorfinn narrowed his eyes at her, “What's got you so perky this morning?”

 

She shook her head and waved her hand at him, “Nothing”

 

“You know, I could have slept in the other bed if I'd known Lucius was going to spend the night in yours,” groused MacNair from across the table. Lucius coughed and sputtered on his tea, and Thorfinn's eyes turned into saucers as he looked between the two.

 

“You minx!” he finally settled on, an appreciative grin on his lips. Hermione groaned, and dropped her head onto the table.

 

“Only you Thorfinn,” she muttered, “It was nothing”

 

“Well, you did say nothing was making you perky....” interjected MacNair.

 

Hermione turned her head to the right and looked at Lucius, “Remind me again, how did you manage to survive the war and not kill half your compatriots?”

 

“I'd imagine the same way you did, and not kill Mr. Potter or Mr. Weasley,” he drawled back.

 

“So enchanted necklace, not enough sleep, and eating too many mushrooms. Got it”

MacNair laughed then, pounding a fist on the table that made Hermione jump a little and lean back in her chair again. Lucius's gray eyes were still on her, a small smile hinted around his mouth as he sipped his tea again.

 

“So, what happened with you two last night?” asked Hermione, wanting to move forward from the slightly awkward banter. Thorfinn raised an eyebrow, but allowed the conversation to shift.

 

“Nothing we haven't heard before. Thinly veiled references to magical purity, and how we're being invaded and magic stolen. It was...well, weird would be the best way to put it,” he answered. Lucius nodded.

 

“Weird how?” she asked, forehead crinkled.

 

“What's that muggle thing they do? Where they hide a message in something?” he asked.

 

“You mean subliminal messages?” she answered. Thorfinn snapped his fingers and nodded.

 

“That's it. There was music, but it was more or less just propaganda” he replied, “Nothing too get excited about until Lucius got your message. And then we started seeing muggles smuggled through the side door”

 

“So, at what point did you decide to set the building on fire?” she asked wryly. MacNair snorted, leaning back and crossing his arms across his chest.

 

“Well, we tried to get over to the door closest to you but they wouldn't let us through. A couple of punks trying to block it. So I sort of accidentally punched one and may have setthewallonfireatthesametime,” Thorfinn finished in a quick mutter. Hermione raised her eye at him before turning to MacNair.

 

“And what do you have to do with any of this?” she asked. The older man eyed her sharply.

 

“Thorfinn asked me to come along so I could play lookout. Figured an extra set of eyes might be able to identify any other familiar faces”

 

“I see,” she replied, strumming her fingers on the table, “Did any of you see Dolohov?”

 

“No. Didn't recognize anyone, actually. Looks like they were all new recruits,” answered Thorfinn, and the other two nodded with him. She chewed on her lip.

 

“I did. I don't suppose any of you went back to check the building last night? Or anyone from the MLE might have swept it?”

 

Lucius paused with his cup half way to his lips, “You saw Dolohov?”

 

She nodded, meeting his eyes, “He's the one who cut my arm. We dueled, but you grabbed me just after I'd managed to bind him. Last I saw he went down in the building”

 

“Well, the bad news is that most of the building was lost to Fiendfyre. No one could get in there last night” replied Thorfinn, mildly abashed. She sighed noisily.

 

“I get the feeling that doesn't mean that Dolohov went up in flame, however”

 

“Unlikely. Antonin was resourceful, and always had a backup plan” answered Lucius. She hummed and strummed her fingers on the table again.

 

“So, what happened to the rest of the muggles?” she asked finally.

 

“I'd called in a team to help get people out. Simple memory alteration to people present, and it was a rave gone wrong. Though, really, it was so bizarre I'm not sure they really had to do much” said Thorfinn. Hermione frowned.

 

“They were torturing muggles, Thorfinn. I could see them beating them with their fists, and cursing them,” she shuddered, wrapping her arms around her waist, “It was awful. I didn't know how we'd get out of there. And then they took Chester”

 

Thorfinn reached across the table for her, and she unwound one arm, reaching back for him as he grasped her hand, “It wasn't your fault, Princess. You were outnumbered”

 

“Is he ok?” she asked. His face pinched, but he nodded.

 

“Once we were able to get him calmed down and checked out. I was able to replace the blocking charms. He's....Well, he's back to being the Chester you know”

 

“So, where do we go from here?” she asked.

 

“We're kind of back to square one,” Thorfinn sighed, “No Dolohov, no closer to knowing where your items are. I'll have to do some leg work”

 

“What do you think he wants with them?” she asked, leaning back against her chair thoughtfully.

 

“What do you mean?” responded Lucius

 

“I mean...It's an awful lot of trouble to go through to get some dark artifacts. What would he want with them?”

 

“Well, I suspect that at least one of them is being used for monetary gain” answered MacNair as he tossed the American paper down on the table. A half page sized add winked up at them, the mirror prominently displayed in the middle of it.

 

“What the fuck?” muttered Hermione, ignoring Lucius's disapproving look, “It's an auction”

 

Thorfinn whistled, “It's an auction for the very rich. I know where that is”

 

“Well, if it gets at least one of those bloody relics back, I think it's worth at least attending” she answered, eyes going to Lucius. He nodded, concedingly. Money was rarely ever a concern so far as he was concerned, “In the meantime Thorfinn, it's probably worth keeping an ear out for Dolohov. Wouldn't want to lose him, too”

 

Thorfinn nodded before standing, “In which case, I need to get back to work. I'll let you two know if I get any good leads”

 

MacNair made his excuses and left with Thorfinn, leaving Lucius and Hermione alone in the penthouse once more. She looked at him, watching him closely for a moment as he watched her. With a heavy sigh she stood, and retreated out to the balcony.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter, promise I'll make it up to you!


	18. Chapter 18

Hermione leaned on the balcony, staring down at the beach below her. It was early, but mid-summer in California meant that it was already hot and the normal morning fog had already been burned away. She knew it went against her Gryffindor sensibilities, but she wasn't ready to have the conversation with Lucius about last night.

 

The water looked cool, and inviting, and without giving it too much thought she transfigured her clothes into a mildly racy one piece bathing suit and worked her way over to the stairs that led down to the beach. It was a long walk down, but it allowed her to organize her thoughts.

 

Truthfully, she was disquieted by the activities she'd witnessed the previous night. Without a good count on number of masked persons, it was hard to say how successful the previous night's recruiting efforts had been. Much as she would like to believe that most people wouldn't be willing to jump on board with pureblood propaganda, especially in a country as magically diverse as the States, she knew that it was easy to fall under the trance of wanting to believe you were better than someone else. And in a country with such a tumultuous history, anti-anything sentiments could always be found just below the surface of polite society.

 

Though, the States had a more varied and deeply controversial magical history than most. The two major schools had been founded by immigrants, which meant that most of the non-indigineous magical persons were not pureblood. Magic found amongst Native American residents was more elemental, and earthy compared to that of European descent, but given the reduction in tribal population sizes and racial mixing, it was not a stretch to say that pureblood anything was nearly a myth within the country as a whole. Not that that ever really stopped anyone from believing they were better than someone else based on luck of birth alone. If nothing else, Voldemort had proven that pureblood fanaticism was not limited to those of impeccable pedigrees alone. Anyone could convince themselves that they were stronger and better if they only wanted to.

 

The other troubling thought in her mind was the daring in which they operated. It was entirely too easy for them to not only create the event, but then put it on with very little oversight from either the muggle police or the MLE. She wasn't sure if that meant there was someone within either jurisdiction that would implicitly or explicitly sanction the event, or if it meant that the two departments really were that inept. Of course, without the recent history of a war that nearly destroyed their country breathing down their neck, it's possible that the subtle signs that the British MLE pounced on were either overlooked or given lesser precedence.

 

Standing in front of the vast expanse of water, Hermione discreetly cast a bubble head charm before walking in. She'd never had the chance to swim in the ocean before, and given that this might be the only time she got to experience the Pacific, she wanted to take full advantage. As the water reached her waist, she realized the biggest drawback to her plan was the temperature. Goosebumps broke out along her skin, and she immediately dove under the next large enough wave to hid the other evidence of cold water. Once under, she cast a warming charm on her bathing suit.

 

The underwater topography of the coast of California was unlike coastal other regions in that it was a relatively short shelf, before it dropped off into a deep trench. The shelf, however, was teeming with life and after taking a moment to gain her bearing in the tidal current, she swam into the surrounding kelp forest. The long strands of aquatic plants reached pleadingly towards the surface, dancing and swaying with the motion of the water. Fish darted in and out of the fronds, flashes of bright oranges, silvers and browns.

 

Diving in from the left, Hermione watched with delight as a seal lion darted through the kelp, chasing after a it's next meal. The sleek pinniped swirled down, and around after it's quarry, before dipping and swimming back to her. It floated lazily around her for a moment as it regarded her – whether friend or food she didn't know – and then darted off again. The tranquil environment of quiet, deep water and blissful ignorance of natural life lulled her natural anxiety into complacency. She treaded water lazily at length, enjoying the break of solitude in the foreign environment.

 

As she reached the edge of the forest, she peaked down over the edge into the trench below. The water shifted from chilly to cold here, and she was hesitant to go any further. As she peered into the abyss, she had the distinctly cliched and unpleasant feeling that the abyss was peering back at her. It was enough to redirect her travels backwards, away from that deep blue that couldn't be penetrated.

 

Feeling sated physically and emotionally, she decided to return to shore. She could tell her fingers were getting pruney, and she was starting to get cool even in spite of the warming charm. As she broke the surface of the water and forded through the waves, her mind felt more at ease than it had in the last several days since they'd arrived in the States. Had it only been days? It felt more like weeks.

 

The walk back up to the penthouse was more difficult than it had been down, and she was mostly dry by the time she re-entered. Her hair was wildly curled and sticking out around her head, but it was one of the few times she loved it's untamed nature. It made her feel free and uninhibited, and by extension attractive. She paused in the kitchen to grab a glass of water, standing in front of the faucet while she drank.

 

There was a soft throat clearing behind her, and she jumped a little to see Lucius there. She was mildly embarrassed that she hadn't heard him come in, but blamed it on her wayward thoughts about underwater forests. She was surprised to see the appreciative glimmer in his eyes as he glanced down at her, taking in her form in her suit. It was black with cutout sides, making it slightly better than a bikini and more than a little suggestive. She smiled secretively at him around her glass, enjoying the warmth that pooled in her belly at his appraisal.

 

His eyes narrowed a little, and he walked past her, his hand barely brushing her behind as he did. She had to turn her head away from him, controlling her smirk. That had not been accidental – there was plenty of room for him to pass her without touching. As he returned with his own glass, he reached around her, one hand landing on her hip and trapping her between him and the counter as he turned on the water with his other. She tipped her head to the side, she appraised his face in portrait as he studiously ignored her. Glass filled, he turned the tap back off, and then leaned down, brushing his lips along her shoulder before releasing her and leaving the room.

 

The heat that had pooled was starting to cause puddles, and she felt warmth spread across her chest. She placed her glass in the sink and leaned back to watch him retreat into the master bedroom. Immediately disappointment flooded her, and she sighed in annoyance. There was a good chance the man was going to make her spontaneously combust, and now she was quite certain he knew it too.

 

Giving in, she decided to take a brief shower again to rinse off the sand and salt, before changing and settling in to the living area of their hotel. Somehow, maddeningly, the rest of the day was spent with very little interaction with Lucius. He appeared to be avoiding her, though his intermittent presence for things like getting a drink or passing through the room every few hours suggested that it may be deliberate instead of malicious.

 

Late in the afternoon she was surprised by the pop of apparition landing behind her. She dropped the book she'd been holding, and spun with wand out to find it placed directly on Thorfinn's carotid artery. His hands were up, palms out as he waited for her to recognize him. Huffing, she lowered her arm.

 

“Sorry, Princess. Didn't mean to scare you”

 

“It's fine. Just been a quiet day” she answered, leaning down to pick up her book and place it back on the couch.

 

“No fun while I was away, huh?” he asked, eyes equal parts mirthful and sympathetic. She scowled at him.

 

“I went for a swim” she bit back at him.

 

“Good substitute for a cold shower” he replied, grinning at her. She huffed at him, crossing her arms.

 

“Are you here for a reason, or just trying to make me crazy?” she demanded. His grin grew even larger, but he allowed the diversion.

 

“I may have some intel on where Dolohov has been staying. It's an establishment in the wizarding part of Los Angeles” he revealed.

 

“When should we plan on going?” came Lucius's voice from the other side of the room.

 

“We'll go tomorrow. I'd rather not do anything after dark again, if we can avoid it,” Thorfinn replied, expression slightly chagrined.

 

“Will it just be us or will the other two be joining?” asked Hermione.

 

“Walden has a good lead on some of the berks in masks last night. He's helping the MLE get them rounded up, so he won't be there. Chester is still recovering, but, ah...this is not really the sort of establishment for him” hedged Thorfinn. Hermione narrowed her eyes at him.

 

“Exactly what sort of establishment is it?” she demanded. He winced at her tone and rubbed the back of his head.

 

“I'll tell you what, we'll talk about that more on the way tomorrow” he answered. Hermione growled a little.

 

“Where are you taking me, Thorfinn Rowle?”

 

“Would you not do that? You sound like my sister” he groused back.

 

“I'll stop doing that when you stop doing stupid things” she snapped back. Lucius snorted behind her back.

 

“Well, that could be a long time, Hermione” he drawled back, his use of her name sounding like a caress. She felt her ears warm up, and from Thorfinn's immediate attention to them she could tell he noticed them too. That same knowing smirk was on his face again, and he stepped closer to her, grabbing an arm. Before she could pull back, he leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss to her mouth. She froze, surprised, before shoving him away.

 

He grinned then, victoriously as he looked over her shoulder at Lucius, “See you tomorrow, Princess. Lucius” and with a pop he was gone.

 

“That pigeon toed, big headed, pompous asshat” she growled, wiping her mouth furiously. Not that she previously minded Thorfinn's kisses, it was just that in this case he was clearly attempting to get a rise out of her and possibly her companion.

 

“What, exactly, is your previous relationship with Mr. Rowle?” came Lucius's careful question from behind her. She winced and turned to him.

 

“Would you accept friends who occasionally kiss?” she answered, face twisted in regret.

 

Lucius snorted, “I would, but you would have to tell me where he's allowed to kiss you and I think that conversation would be significantly less comfortable to have”

 

Hermione laughed in surprise at the statement, “Undoubtedly. Let's just say, Thorfinn and I are... WERE well acquainted once in the past”

 

“Just once?” responded Lucius, raising an eyebrow even as he stepped closer to her, “How disappointing for Mr. Rowle”

 

She was certain she'd stopped breathing, Lucius's presence in her personal bubble abruptly ceased every thought except the one that had her watching him very closely. He pursed his lips at her, stepping in close enough that she had to tip her head back to look up at him again. His hands settled against her waist, and she felt a little pant of air slip past her lips. Leaning down towards her, her eyes followed his mouth until it was just hovering over her own, “That bathing suit looked delectable on you today” he murmured before lightly brushing her lips with his own. She leaned up, and into him, but he was pulling away already.

 

“I looked even better with it off,” she responded breathlessly, not for the first time appreciative that her inner lion was able to speak when the rest of her brain had decided to shut off. His eyes dilated, and he swallowed hard as he took a step back.

 

“I believe it, Miss Granger” was his reply before he released her, and retreated once again to the master bedroom.

 

As the door closed, she groaned loudly, and collapsed onto the couch. What in the hell was going on with him? She was definitely well on her way to combustion if he continued to tease her like that. Was it a pureblood thing? Get them wanting and wet, and then leave them so eventually they couldn't say no even if they should? Or was it a Lucius thing?

 

Images of Lucius naked, holding himself up over her with his arms flew to mind as she thought about the few fleeting glances of his body she'd gotten in the past week. Was it possible he was imagining her the same way? She blushed fully now, events of the day coming back to her. If he wasn't, he was doing a damned good job of making her think he was.

 


	19. Chapter 19

Hermione woke up early the next morning from a fitful sleep, alone in her bed. She groaned as she stretched out amongst the sheets, knowing from touch and smell that she'd spent the whole night by herself. It wasn't as if she hadn't expected it, but after their flirtations she couldn't say she wasn't a little hopeful that perhaps her traveling companion might join her again.

 

As if waiting for her to awaken, her mobile rang and she grumbled as she reached over to grab it off the side table, “Good morning, Draco”

 

There was a pause and then, “Did I wake you?”

 

“No, but I've just woken up myself,” she responded, running a hand down her face.

 

“Late night?” he asked.

 

“Not late enough. I think I'm still recovering from the mess the night before last,” she replied. She could hear him hum on the other end of the phone.

 

“Yeah, Trufeather was having kittens over here. Almost pulled you back, but I talked him down off the ledge”

 

“Ugh. Why are all the men in my life overbearing, worrywarts?” she grumbled, sitting up finally.

 

“Common denominator. They all must love you,” came the soft response. She smiled, and chuckled.

 

“Aw, that was almost sweet. Creepy, but sweet”

 

“So, how are things with you and Thorfinn?” the devious smile was audible, and she scowled as if he could see her.

 

“Not as exciting as you're hoping,” she bit back. Draco laughed and teasingly groaned.

 

“But I want to live vicariously through you!” he responded. There was a faint yell in the background.

 

“You couldn't handle Thorfinn,” she shot back.

 

“Oh? And how would you know?” came his smooth reply. Hermioned groaned, always the Slytherin.

 

“Conjecture and a vivid imagination,” she answered flatly. Draco laughed then.

 

“You're a terrible liar, Granger”

 

“And you're an incorrigible pervert, but we all have our crosses to carry,” her voice carrying no malice.

 

“Is my Dad doing ok?” he asked, a hint of vulnerability in his tone.

 

“He...He seems be doing fine,” she answered, and then paused before asking, “Draco, why didn't you tell me about your mother?”

 

He sucked in a sharp breath, “Who told you?”

  
“Thorfinn,” she confessed, “But it was under odd circumstances. His partner is a muggle and apparently faked his own death to join the magical world”

 

“Oh,” came the short reply. Hermione waited for a long moment, before deciding she would get no more from him.

 

“Draco, you know I love you like family. If you ever need to talk...” she trailed off, and smiled softly as she heard him sigh on the other end.

 

“Mum was punished during the war by You Know Who, and couldn't handle it. She chose to end her own life rather than face the consequences. Dad...Well, you know him. Emotions bottled tightly, corked up for no one to see. He didn't take it well, blamed himself. Found himself in the bottom of the bottle for a while, and then one day... He stopped. And he hasn't talked about her since,” came the soft answer. Hermione ached to hug her friend, but from the murmuring on the other side of the phone she could surmise Harry was doing as much.

 

“I'm so sorry, Draco. I had no idea”

 

“Well, outside of the the people who were there, no one really does,” answered Draco, voice stronger now. Hermione nodded, aware he couldn't see her.

 

“And you Malfoys, you're all so darned talkative. It's a wonder we don't know all your secrets,” she teased, trying to break the solemnity of the moment.

 

“Well, someone has to entertain the pleebs” came the very aristocratic voice, and Hermione laughed at him. She heard a hint of a laugh through the mobile, before a sober, “Please be careful, Hermione. You and my Dad...you're so important to me”

 

The vulnerability of his tone squeezed at her heart, “Always, Draco”

 

Hanging up the phone, she played over the conversation in her head. What sort of punishment could have caused Narcissa to choose death over life with her family? Knowing what she did now, she knew Voldemort was often creative in his discipline, skillfully choosing the one thing that meant the most to his followers and using it to break them. What could he have chosen that would have broken the proud Malfoy matriarch?

 

Exiting her room, she rummaged through the kitchen, finding tea and biscuits to start her morning with. Hunger staved off temporarily, she settled onto a seat on the balcony, light robe tucked around her sleep wear as she watched the coast wake up for the day. The sound of the sliding glass door alerted her to the presence of her traveling companion and she smiled up at him as he joined her in the other chair.

 

“Good morning,” she greeted him warmly. He nodded his head back at her mutely, settling down comfortably.

 

“Any word from Thorfinn?” he asked in reply. She tipped her head to the side, trying to get a feel from the impassive man.

 

“No, but it's early yet. I'm sure he'll just show up, like always,” she responded drolly. A small smile played at his lips for a moment and she added, “And Draco sends his love. Like always”

 

He nodded, “I'm assuming he and Potter are doing well?”

 

She gaped at him, like a fish for a moment, “You know??”

 

He leveled a look at her and quirked an eyebrow, “Twenty years as a spy, and I know my son better than anyone else. He's also not that good at hiding things”

 

“You're not upset?” she asked, her mind trying to catch up.

 

“Does Mr. Potter care about him?” he asked lightly. Hermione nodded enthusiastically.

 

“Very much. And Draco lo- Draco feels the same” she finished lamely. He nodded succintly in return.

 

“Then what is there to be upset about?” he asked rhetorically. Hermione stared at him, mouth agape. He winked at her, “Just don't tell Draco I know, yet. It's fun to see him thinking he's getting away with something”

 

She nodded, mutely, as he drained his cup and stood again. He nodded at her before returning back inside and retreating to his room once more.

 

As expected, Thorfinn arrived late morning via Floo without announcing himself before showing up. Hermione was fairly certain he was trying to catch them by surprise, but couldn't prove it beyond an irrefutable doubt so she let his actions slide for the moment.

 

“Ready, Princess?” he asked.

 

“I'd have been more ready if I'd known when you were coming” she responded acerbically. He shrugged, unapologetic smile on his face.

 

“I'm going to apparate us there. I'll come back for Lucius,” he said, taking hold of her arm. Before she had a chance to agree, she felt the jerk on her naval and they landed in a quiet parking lot. She jerked her arm away and smack him on the shoulder.

 

“Would you give a girl a chance to prepare?” she groused at him. Thorfinn gave her another smile, took a step and was gone. She growled again, acutely aware that the more time she spent with the viking, the more annoyed she was by him. There was another crack, and he reappeared a few feet away with Lucius in tow. The scowl on the golden haired man's face indicated he was reaching the same conclusion.

 

“Follow me” said Thorfinn, walking across the lot and towards a main thoroughfare. Lucius stepped next to Hermione, and matched her stride as the tried to follow the larger man. Stepping out onto the sidewalk of the main road, Hermione was surprised to see the bustle of city life. As she looked down the street, she noted the tiles on the sidewalk below them had various names and symbols above them.

 

“The walk of fame?” she asked out loud. Thorfinn tossed a grin over his shoulder and continued weaving through the tourists.

 

“What better place to hide than in plain sight?” he called back. Hermione turned a speculative eye at Lucius and gave her a similar look in return.

 

A few blocks down, they turned and stopped suddenly in front of a familiar building. Thorfinn waited for the Brits to catch up before beckoning them to follow him through the front door. Hermione eyed the decorative dragon tile out front, smiling a little at the appropriateness of the location for the entrance to Wizarding Los Angeles. Why not have the gateway to magic be through the ultimate symbol of clever deception – Grauman's Chinese Theater.

 

Once inside, Thorfinn led them away from the lavish main theater, and behind the stage towards the old prop rooms. As they approached the back of the theater, he pulled out his wand and tapped on the wall near the emergency exit. The door shimmered briefly, and then shifted from a black wooden aperture with a push handle into an intricately carved wooden slab with a delicate gold knob. He grasped the handled, and shoved the door open with flourish, stepping through. Lucius and Hermione hurried to follow through behind him before it closed.

 

Stepping out of the theater, Hermione gasped at the new world before them. Unlike New York's brick buildings and early 20th century feel, Los Angeles was the epitomy of old west architecture and design. Wooden buildings lined the roads with stereotypical false fronts and square tops, adorned with balconies and board signage, and joined to one another via elevated boardwalks. Conversely, but perhaps fittingly for such a mixed population, the inhabitants were attired in predominantly modern clothing, giving it the feel of an amusement park instead of an actual community.

 

“Welcome to magical Los Angeles” announced Thorfinn, appreciation on his face as he gestured at the cityscape before them.

 

“This is incredible,” breathed Hermione, “How long has this city been here?”

 

“The region has been inhabited by magical persons for longer than recorded history here. However, the current city was established in 1868 during westward expansion. As the world grew up around them, they continued to develop but decided to favor the traditional architecture. About 50 years ago they had to undergo some massive renovations to meet retrofit requirements for earthquakes. Most of the buildings you see are replicas of the originals, but now they won't collapse on your head” he answered. Hermione turned around, trying to take the whole view in. Thofinn beckoned them to follow, “We can explore some more later. For now, we have a date with a very impatient woman”

 

Lucius and Hermione fell into stride a few feet behind Thorfinn, following him down a maze of streets that got narrower and decidedly more dodgy the further they went. They exchange a mildly concerned look as they noted more of the buildings had bars over the windows, and the smells became more pungent. As light from the sun was blocked by the narrow placement of buildings, Hermione frowned a little more fully.

 

“Ah, Thorfinn?” she asked hesitantly, “Exactly where are we?”

 

“It's called the Black District, which is about the most unimaginative and most appropriate name you could imagine,” he answered, his mouth a grim line. Hermione tipped her head to the side, “Think of it as Knockturn Alley's older and slightly more drunk brother”

 

“Delightful” intoned Lucius next to her. He shifted his hand up to the back of her arm, and pulled her closer to them as they carefully watched the people scurrying around them. Thorfinn led them across one more street before stopping in front of a tall, dark building with narrow windows. He fidgeted a moment, the least confident Hermione had ever seen him.

 

“I'm going to apologize preemptively for what's about to happen,” he said finally, “If there was any other way, I'd have offered it”

 

“What, exactly, are you talking about?” asked Hermione, eyes narrowed at him. Thorfinn grimaced and pointed at the small plackard to the left of the door.

 

“Madam Belkin's Every Service Girls...Oh my god, Thorfinn. Did you bring us to a brothel?” her voice went up in pitch as she realized what he was concerned about. He winced, and rubbed the back of his head.

 

“Yes, but I had confirmation Antonin has been staying here,” he replied.

 

“And is he still?” asked Lucius, clearly uncomfortable with their current location. Thorfinn shifted nervously.

 

“That's what we're here to find out,” he replied. Hermione shook her head.

 

“Fine. Let's go in and get this over with,” she grumbled. Thorfinn looked like he wanted to say something else, but finally nodded and opened the door, ushering them in.

 

The inside was clean, but dim. In the immediate parlour was a simple desk with a young woman sitting behind it. To the left was a stairwell leading to a hallway upstairs, and to the right was another hallway lined with many doors. While it was quiet, there was the unmistakable sound of amorous activity lingering in the air. Hermione attempted to school the wrinkled nosed and pinched look off her face.

 

The woman raised to greet them, “One for all of you or one each?”

 

“What? No. None!” sputtered Hermione, and she heard Lucius cough to cover up a laugh next to her. She leveled a withering glare at him, but he just turned his head away from her.

 

“We need to speak with Ms. Belkin. She's expecting us,” said Thorfinn, all business. The girl nodded, and turned to disappear down one of the halls.

 

“For the record, I'm not going to forget this Rowle” grumbled Hermione.

 

“Wouldn't expect anything different, Princess,” he replied.

 

A tall, spidery woman with a harsh face and victorian garb returned behind their hostess, and she reached out to shake their hands firmly, “Welcome. I understand you have some questions about a client”

 

“Yes, we're looking for a man who's reportedly been staying here,” started Hermione. Madam Belkin looked up at the upper floor, and then down at the doors behind her before beckoning them to follow her. At the end of the lower hallway she ushered them into an office, shutting the door behind them.

 

“I will answer questions, but I have a requirement” she replied. Lucius frowned.

 

“What is that?”

 

“Everyone who enters this establishment is required, legally, to take a lust potion. It's part of our licensing agreement,” she responded, pulling out three vials from her desk. Hermione felt the blood rush out of her face.

 

“Why would we need to take a potion? We're here for information, not... ah...recreational...Ah...activities” she stuttered. The older woman smiled at her, the expression severe on her pinched features.

 

“Let's call it a show of good faith. You drink the potion, I'll know your intents are sincere. And maybe after you get what you want, I can get something back for it”

 

She handed the vial with the pink potion to the three persons, and Lucius eyed it speculatively before tipping it back. Hermione's eyes bugged out, watching as Thorfinn did the same. Both men swiveled to look at her, and she picked up the vial with the pink liquid.

 

“Thorfinn, when this wears off, be prepared for a lot of painful hexes near some very sensitive areas of your anatomy,” she swore, before tipping the vial back and swallowing as well.

 

 


	20. Chapter 20

Twenty minutes. She had twenty minutes. As soon as the sticky, sweet, pink potion passed her lips, her internal timer started ticking. Twenty minutes.

 

One of the most interesting and confusing phenomena that Hermione encountered in the magical world was the almost immediate effect of most potions. In the muggle world, there was a lag time between when you took medications and when they were absorbed and became active which meant that relief wasn't always immediate. The first time she'd taken a potion and felt it's effects almost as soon as it hit her stomach had been a revelation. It wasn't until many years later that she had come to the conclusion that even though effects started immediately, potency was delayed. It took the same 20 to 30 minutes for the maximum effect of potions to occur as it would for muggle medications.

 

Therefore, as of right now, despite the warm feeling spreading through her limbs, and the slight tingling of her skin, and the sudden awareness of her close proximity to two very attractive men, she officially had 20 minutes before her brain would be complete goo and unable to focus on the task at hand. She needed to make them count.

 

“Madam Belkin, we are looking for a dangerous criminal who's been involved in some illicit activities. Namely larceny, murder, and conspiracy to engage in terrorist acts, though the list is longer and deeper than that” she started, willfully tamping down her libido. She felt Thorfinn shift next to her, felt the brush of his trouser against her knee and mindfully moved away from him.

 

“I was presented with information that this man was staying at your establishment. If he is, it is of the utmost importance that we be allowed to apprehend him,” he said, and Hermione mentally questioned if his voice had always been that gravelly or if the potion just made her hyper aware of his inflections.

 

The spindly woman looked at the three of them, a secretive smirk etched onto her lips, and then gestured with her hand, “Well, come on then. Do you have a picture of this person?”

 

Thorfinn pulled a picture out of his jacket pocket, while Hermione pulled up the one on her phone. They mutely slid both across the desk towards her, and Hermione suppressed her hiss of surprise as her forearm brushed against Lucius in the action. He sat up a touch straighter next to her and shifted in his own seat. Madam Belkin stared at the two pictures for a long moment, glancing at them and then back down again, as if weighing her next move.

 

“Fucking Slytherins” Hermione muttered, quiet enough for her two companions to hear, but not so loud for the proprietor to make out. There was a muffled cough to her left and a grumble to her right as she chanced a look over at Lucius. He held a hand over his mouth, but there were small crinkles around the corners of his eyes which spoke to his amusement. Hermione schooled her features, even as her fingers strummed anxiously on the armrest of the office chair she was seated in.

 

“Yes,” came the reluctant response, finally, “I have seen this man. He paid handsomely to stay here if I didn't ask any questions”

 

“Is he still here?” came Thorfinn's gruff reply. The tall woman stared at him impassively before nodding sharply.

 

“He paid for a room for a week”

 

“Do you know if he's currently in his rooms?” came Lucius's question, and Hermione felt a warm pooling in her belly at the sound of his collected drawl.

 

“I couldn't tell you,” Madam Belkin replied shortly, “I am not privvy to the comings and goings of my guests. It would be a breach of privacy”

 

Hermione just barely managed to stop her snort, though Lucius must have caught the gesture, because he turned his amused gaze on her once more. She took a deep breath in, trying desperately to ignore the feel of his eyes on her and what it was doing to her libido, “I don't suppose you employ any muggle technology? Anything like security cameras?”

 

The spidery woman turned her piercing gaze on Hermione then, narrowing her eyes at the younger woman as if she was a specimen to be studied, “Actually, we do”

 

Lucius reached over to pat her on the arm, and she cleared her throat, “Perhaps I could...we could look at the footage? See when he might have last entered?”

 

“The cameras only cover the entry way and the hallways outside the rooms. Nothing inside the rooms. Though, anti-apparition wards are in place to prevent customers from skipping the formalities and forgetting to pay,” came the sardonic reply.

 

“So we may be able to see when Dolohov was last here,” finished Hermione, trying to remove her arm calmly from Lucius's touch, which had transformed from a pat to a mindless rub of his fingers across her wrist. The older woman nodded crisply again, reaching into a drawer on the desk and pulling out a small notebook sized item. Hermione snorted indelicately as she realized it was a tablet.

 

“Told you they were more integrated here,” rumbled Thorfinn from her side, leaning towards her as he stretched forward. She chanced a look at his face, appreciating the fact that he was determinedly ignoring her. Glancing over at Lucius she saw the confusion in his own expression, and a small smile played at her lips.

 

“It's an electronic device,” she explained to him, “It allows us to watch what the cameras have recorded. Or are recording”

 

His brow furrowed a bit further, and he leaned forward, crowding her other side as he craned his head to look at the small screen. Hermione bit her lip, unable to completely suppress a moan as his shoulder brushed hers, small hairs on her skin standing up at the light touch. He snapped his head around to look at her, cool gray eyes glittering sharply as he took in her flushed appearance. She swallowed hard, nervously pushing her hair behind her shoulder, before fluttering her hand down to grasp the desk firmly.

 

Thorfinn reached out first, grabbing the tablet and pulling it towards them. With a few deft touches he'd pulled up the security footage for the last 24 hours and was playing it back in double time. The new angle had the three investigators leaning close to each other, nearly touching, causing a spike in Hermione's temperature. She could practically feel the two men breathing on her, and the warring emotions to either ride one of them like a hippogriff or run away like a first year were making it hard to concentrate. She heard Lucius clear his throat next to her, before he reached up and loosened the top button on his shirt. It was a small comfort that she was not the only one so affected.

 

At a time stamp of approximately 10 am, they caught their break and got a good view of Antonin leaving one of the rooms on the top floor. Speeding through the rest of the recently recorded footage showed that he hadn't yet returned, which meant that there was a good chance he still wasn't back.

 

“Can we search his room?” asked Hermione. The older woman gave a severe frown.

 

“There's still due process to be considered, miss. Not without a warrant”

 

“What about with a little extra financial gain?” asked Lucius. Hermione raised an eye in his direction and he gave a subtle shrug at her.

 

“It would have to be quite substantial. And come with no risk to myself or my establishment,” came the response after a long beat.

 

“Consider it done” replied Lucius, standing abruptly. Hermione mimicked his movement, pushing her chair back and moving rapidly away from the two men. Thorfinn was the last to stand, and he gave her a lingering glance before he strode purposefully out of the room, the proprieter directly behind him. Hermione groaned, closing her eyes and rubbing her hands down her face, attempting to take in a cleansing breath.

 

“Seven minutes left” she muttered.

 

“Seven minutes until what?” asked a voice far closer to her than expected. Hermione jumped, surprised, and collided with the wall behind her. Lucius reached out to steady her, grasping her upper arms in both hands.

 

“Seven more minutes until the potion meets maximum potency,” she answered mechanically, eyes snapping up to his. She was aware, absently, that his cheeks were a little pinker than usual, and his breath was a touch erratic. He stepped closer into her personal space, crowding her against the wall.

 

“And then what, princess?” he mocked her gently. She shivered as his scent wafted over her, and she swallowed hard as her eyes were drawn to his lips.

 

“And then...we're totally fucked, “ she murmured, swaying towards him, hands reaching up to grab his shirt. Lucius's pupils widened, and she could feel his muscles tense as he leaned towards her as well.

 

“Well, we should probably make the most of them then” his words came out as a small puff of breath just above her lips, and she nodded mutely, not really hearing him as she stretched forward and up towards his mouth. A hairsbreadth away from him, he cleared his throat and firmly pulled himself back away from her.

 

The groan that came out of her mouth would have embarrassed her if she was in a clear state of mind. As it was, the lust induced fuzz that was settling around her brain made it near impossible to actually focus on much of anything outside of warmth pooling in her stomach, soft touches along her skin, and the exquisitely intoxicating scent of the man in front of her. Lucius gave her a vaguely tortured look as he gently disentangled her hands from his shirt.

 

“Later,” was all he said, before he turned stiffly and stalked out of the room as well. Hermione groaned again, and shook her head, before pushing off the wall to join the others.

 

The room was on the second floor of the building, and while it was a relatively short distance from the office downstairs, their current conditions made the walk seem interminable. The upper floor was just a touch warmer than the lower floors, with a smell that was heavy with sex and sweat permeating the air. The sounds from the rooms around them were muffled, but hung in the atmosphere, making Hermione's heart race at the images they brought to mind. She bit her lip again, trying to control her libido just a little while longer.

 

They finally ended at room 214, which was indistinguishable from the rest besides the number on it's door. After tapping on the door several times, the proprietor unlocked it and let them inside with the admonition, “Do try to be gone before he returns”

 

The room was serviceable, though a touch spartan. There was a full sized bed pushed against the left wall, a curtained window on the wall directly in front of them, and a small desk on the right hand side. The only decorations on the walls were two slightly suggestive pieces of art hanging on the wall. Of course, Hermione admitted to herself, it wasn't as if people were paying to stay at a five star hotel. They were either there with a purpose, or there to hide.

 

She tried her best to stay away from the other two as they entered the cramped room. On the other side of the open door, blocked from their immediate view, was a closet. She glanced over at Thorfinn, “Exactly how paranoid was Dolohov?”

 

“Very” was the terse response, as the larger man came up behind her. She steadied her breathing at his heat against her back.

 

“How likely is it that he would have placed a protection ward on a closet?” she asked, willing her body to just stop.

 

“If there was something to hide? Very. If there wasn't something to hide? Most likely” he answered, stepping in a little closer to her. She huffed and gave him an irritated look over her shoulder, which froze at the sight of his own dilate pupils and intense stare. She could tell he was trying to control himself, but with their history it was hard to ignore the signs of arousal between them. She turned slightly, and placed a hand on his chest, fisting his shirt for a moment before releasing it and gently pushing him away from her. He grabbed the hand in his own reflexively, but dropped it just as quickly and cleared his throat. Satisfied he was far enough away from her to allow her to think she turned back to the closet.

 

The wards were nasty but relatively simple to dismantle. Clearly, Dolohov had not actually expected someone to find him here, nor to want to go through his belongings. Hermione opened the door to find a single duffle bag on the ground, and she tested it once more before rummaging through the contents.

 

“Clothes, clothes, and a few books,” she called out over her shoulder, dropping back onto her heels.

 

“So, nothing” intoned Lucius back. She grunted in a agreement.

 

“Looks like the mirror and the bear are gone,” she answered as she stood to face them. The rest of the room looked like it had been pulled apart and hastily put back together, and she frowned a little at the sight. Dolohov would know someone had been there.

 

“I have an address” called out Thorfinn from the desk.

 

“Where?” asked Lucius and Hermione simultaneously.

 

“Savannah, actually” he answered.

 

“Savannah? As in Savannah, Georgia?” she asked, surprised. Thorfinn nodded.

 

“Seems to be”

 

Lucius smirked at her, and she became acutely aware of the moisture in her nickers and sudden and immediate rise in temperature in the room. Seven minutes was up. He appeared to become aware of the change at the exact same moment, and stalked over to her confidently, leaning down and tipping her jaw up to look at him, “Looks like we're going to get a little tour of the States after all”

 

Hermione balled her hands into fists at the side of her body, “Perhaps. For now, let's just see if we can intercept him at the auction tomorrow night”

 

Lucius hummed, and tilted forward at her. Her eyes fluttered closed at his proximity, and she startled as she felt a second body's heat come up behind her. Fingertips trailed down the outsides of her arms and a soft moan worked it's way out of her throat. There was the soft tickle of hair on her collar bone as lips brushed across her right shoulder – Thorfinn she noted - and a hand grasped her left hip tightly – Lucius she noted.

 

With one final act of willful concentration she drew up tall, and pushed both men away before darting out of the room, down the stairs and out of the establishment, disapparating with a crack.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm really sorry about the long wait for this chapter. It's been an odd couple of weeks, and it's made it difficult to write much. I got a chance to go on vacation last week, yay! But this big chick named Irma kept trying to crash our party, so it was a little bit stressful.
> 
> This past month has been tough at work as well. Lots and lots of terminally ill patients, which makes it hard to find happy and creative places to write from. I was hoping to have gotten away from that streak while on vacation, but the last few days proved that it's just hanging around a little bit longer. 
> 
> Also, I know that the technology in this chapter may not be equivocal for the post-war timeline. I'll be honest - I graduated undergrad in 2004 and was one of a handful of students that used a laptop in class at that time. In 2014 when I finished my graduate degree, literally everyone in my class had laptops. Technology has grown so quickly in the last 2 decades it's hard for me to keep up when everything became available. This story is supposed to take place about 8 to 10 years post-war, so 2007 to 2009ish. And let's be real here - I can't even remember what I ate yesterday morning, so I really can't remember when certain technologies came out. I've decided I just don't care, and I'm just going to use what's convenient when it's convenient. Sorry not sorry ;)
> 
> Anyhow, I'll finish up by saying, hope you enjoyed the chapter and thanks for being patient! And don't you worry - more smutty goodness is ahead!


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter we earn our M rating.

Hermione landed inside their penthouse, not bothering to stop moving as she rushed towards her bedroom. She'd managed to disrobe, pull on her bathing suit and be almost out the balcony door before the crack of apparition sounded behind her. She threw an almost apologetic look over her shoulder at Lucius's wild eyed face before she ran down the stairs to the beach.

 

She continued to rush across to the too hot sand, barely apologizing to the child who's castle she clipped with one overly sensitive heel, before she threw herself into the water of the Pacific Ocean. The stinging cold elicited a hiss from her, along with a string of expletives that had more than one adult in the area glaring daggers, but she couldn't be bothered to care. She had to find a way to get the damnable heat that was threatening to burn her from the inside out, and the far too sensitive itch under her skin begging her to find someone, anyone to lock in her room until they were sated. Repeatedly.

 

Not that Lucius wasn't a good candidate, and give their recent seduction it probably was inevitable, but she wasn't sure that THIS was how she wanted it to happen. And she was VERY certain that she didn't want to relive the past with Thorfinn, because in spite of how incredibly, toe curlingly satisfying it had been there was really no future there and no reason to rekindle that particular fire. And no matter what images her brain was conjuring about the two of them at the same time, she was definitely certain that was a path she didn't want to go down. Because no matter how it started, eventually they'd regain their faculties, and the resultant blow out of those two egos would easily level Los Angeles – magical and muggle alike.

 

So here she was, instead, trying to replace frantic arousal with cold salt water, and currently failing miserable. She cast the bubble head charm before diving down below the waves, and finding herself deep within the same kelp forest she'd visited two days prior as quickly as she could get there. It wasn't as relaxing this time as it was the previous visit, probably because of the damned potion making her life a miserable, lust induced hell, but it was better than the torture of even clothing against her skin. The temperature had taken off the edge, just barely, and any brush of the underwater grass redirected her attention to that very sensitive spot on her skin.

 

Working her way out to the edge of the shelf, she lingered over the deep abyss, away from gentle brushes of sea life that worked to accidentally drive her mad. Treading water, she worked to harness the meditation skills she'd developed in her years after the war while working in the Department of Mysteries. It was important to focus one's thoughts, regardless of surroundings and circumstances, when dealing with highly volatile objects of unknown origin, and she'd gone to great lengths to learn how to control her emotions and physical reactions in the line of duty so to speak. It had served her well over the years, and had even helped her recover from the worst of her traumatic memories, though some things would never be go away completely.

 

She wasn't sure how much time had passed as she'd tried, in vain, to employ every meditative process she knew to control her libido. Apparently, meditation was a shit substitute for shagging. Which made sense – it wasn't like you could meditate your way out of hunger or having to pee either. Base instincts, survival instincts were not easily controlled by mind over matter, especially not when they'd been amplified by potion. Her face contorted in irritation, she couldn't very well stay underwater for the next 12 hours either. Though, the thought gave her pause – exactly how long was this brand of potion expected to last? She hadn't thought to ask Belkin at the time, and given the potential ranges -anywhere from 3 hours to “until satisfaction is achieved” - she could be truly and literally fucked.

 

A glittering over the edge of the shelf drew her attention away from her thoughts. It came from somewhere in the darkness below, but twinkled up at her as if inviting her down. She raised an eyebrow speculatively, trying to weigh out the mental pros and cons of an idea so stupid that she would go into the unknown depths of an unknown ocean just to take her mind off her current predicament. On the other hand, the only other way to alleviate her current problem was to return to the penthouse and tie up and ride Lucius Malfoy, an attractive man whom she'd just recently decided was actually a man, until the throb between her legs went away. Suddenly, chasing a flickering light into the void didn't seem like such a bad decision.

 

Recasting the bubblehead charm, she set out with long strokes into the ever darkening water, clearing her ears as she went deeper over the shelf. The water dropped several more degrees, which further took the edge off her frantic mind, and gave her more purpose. Another meter down, and she paused, finally able to clear some of the murkiness from her head. This was definitely a stupid idea. But now, now she was committed to it. The light was getting larger, and instead of flickering, it remained steady in her vision.

 

She'd gone another 2 meters down before truly realizing her idiocy. At this depth it was hard to tell which direction was up, in spite of knowing she was traveling down, and she couldn't actually make out any shapes around her. She could be eaten by a shark before even knowing it was there. Not that there were likely to be any here, her brain reminded her, as most sharks tended to be warm water creatures and this was definitely not warm water. She hesitated, treading in the dark, trying to decide whether or not finish herself off or begin her ascent to the surface.

 

In the end, the decision was taken away from her as two arms wrapped around her waist and jerked her up with jarring force. She watched with fascinated horror as a wide set of sharply lined jaws closed in open water just inches from her toes, before retreating back down into the gloom below, and the small light that had beckoned her blinked out of existence. She looked up then, barely able to make out alabaster skin and pale hair as she was pulled back up into the murky light above.

 

The drawn face that met her at the surface was completely devoid of amusement, “What the sodding hell did you think you were doing?”

 

The fact that Lucius was cursing was rather interesting. The fact that it turned her on reminded her that while she hadn't been eaten by an abyss dwelling leviathan, she was not actually out of the woods yet, “Taking a proverbial cold shower?”

 

“Getting yourself fucking killed is more like it,” he snarled back, his nostrils flaring at her as they bobbed along the surface.

 

“Seemed like a good idea at the time,” she quipped weakly, trying not to focus on how attractive she found his face when he was worked up. She willed herself to look away, which meant she was now focused on his exquisitely chiseled arms instead. She groaned, and looked back towards the shoreline, surprised to see it further away than expected.

 

“Get back to shore, Granger,” came the sharp order. She complied wordlessly, not looking to see if he'd followed her as she started swimming. Once on shore she didn't stop, continuing to try and put as much distance between them as possible. He didn't seem to be in any hurry to catch up, though she could hear his footfalls on the wooden stairs behind her. Their mood was quiet and tense, like the calm before the storm.

 

As she re-entered the penthouse, she could feel the tremble of her calves, informing her that she'd exerted herself more than expected. She sighed quietly, heading over to the kitchen to get some water. Standing in front of the sink, she looked up, catching Lucius's eyes as he lingered by the sliding glass door, watching her with an inscrutable look on his face. She paused, waiting for the scolding to begin, pressing the glass to her lips and raising a challenging eyebrow at him.

 

A long moment later an unreadable expression crossed his face, and he closed the door firmly before walking to enter the kitchen. She watched him approach, tensing as he stepped in behind her and placed his hands on her hips, fingers flexing against them. A gasp slipped out of her mouth unbidden, and his right arm wrapped around her waist while the left trailed up and pushed her hair away from her left shoulder. The heat was back, burning her everywhere he touched, raising goosepimples along her flesh. She bit her lower lip as she felt his lips ghost along the length of her shoulder, trailing up to behind her ear where he placed an open mouthed kiss.

 

“Lucius” she moaned, and the hand around her waist tightened reflexively, “We shouldn't do this”

 

“No,” he agreed, breathing along her skin, “We shouldn't”

 

She dropped her glass on the counter unceremoniously, before turning in his embrace and winding her arms up behind his neck, “This is a bad idea”

 

“Yes,” he answered, his lips whispering along her jawline now as both his hands landed at her hips, and he pressed her back against the counter, “It is”

 

Her nerves jangled as he pushed himself against her, his arousal prominent along her midsection. “Fuck it” she muttered, tangling her hands in his hair and guiding his lips to her own. His only reply was a mirthful chuckle, and then his mouth was on hers.

 

It wasn't the sort of meeting one would expect for a first kiss, soft and sweet and questing. This was firm, and demanding, and then both of their mouths were open and their tongues tangled, determined to take pleasure from the other. Lucius moaned from the back of his throat, and his tongue slid silkily against hers, eliciting a mewling sound that she was almost embarrassed to hear come out of her own lips.

 

Almost, because the sound seemed to spur Lucius to lift her onto the counter, and she opened her knees allowing him to get even closer. His arms braced on either side of her hips, and he pressed urgently against her. Her hands skimmed up and down his arms, and then along the well formed planes of his back muscles, and she groaned at the feeling of them flexing under her fingers. She felt his lips curve against her own in a satisfied smile, and his own hands grasped her butt, squeezing as he pulled her towards him. He leaned her upper body backwards, and she yelped as her head came in contact with the floating cupboards behind her.

 

He paused, pulling back a moment as she rubbed the back of her head and winced at the touch, “Perhaps we should take this elsewhere”

 

She looked into his face, eyes even with her own from her spot on the counter and she nodded mutely. She made to scoot forward and jump down, but he shook his head, and pulled her against himself, folding his arms around her waist. She smiled in understanding, winding her legs around his waist, and settling her arms on his shoulders as he scooped her up and carried her towards the larger bedroom. She ran her finger through his hair, playing with the silky ends, peppering his face with kisses intermittently on their journey. His lips stayed curved in a satisfied smirk, and he attempted to catch hers with his own as he carried her, but she ducked his attempts playfully until he dumped her on the bed.

 

She gave out a small, surprised squeak as her back hit the mattress, and she lifted herself onto her elbows. Instead of joining her immediately, he remained at the foot of the bed, staring at her where she lay with hooded eyes. The feel of his gaze on her further ignited the heat that was burning under her skin, and she whimpered as she felt wetness gather at the apex of her thighs once more. At the sound he moved once more, placing his hands on her knees, and gliding them up along her hips, sides, and resting them just beneath her breasts as his body slid over hers.

 

He nuzzled the valley between her breasts, before turning to her left and slipping the strap of her suit down to bare it to his gaze. His groan of contentment went straight to her head, and she felt her legs fall apart, welcoming him into the cradle of her thighs. His lips found her left nipple, and he licked and suckled it gently, while his right hand pulled the other strap down to uncover her other breast. She held his head against her while he worshiped her left breast before turning the same attention to her right one.

 

“You have the most perfect breasts, Miss Granger,” the roughness of his voice combined with the more formal use of his name elicited another moan, and she arched her back to press against him more fully, “I bet your pussy is just as perfect”

 

She shivered at his confident assertion, and felt his rumbling chuckle against her skin. His hands moved again then, grabbing her suit and yanking it the rest of the way down to her knees as he pulled back briefly, eyes taking her in fully for the first time. She kicked her legs, wriggling them to get the suit the rest of the way down, and he groaned again as they brushed against his groin.

 

Realizing in the haze of her lust that he was still dressed she sat up a little, reaching for him, hands ghosting over his erection on the outside of his own suit before reaching up to untie it. He grabbed her wrists in one hand and gently guided them back to the bed, pushing her upper body back with the other. He ran his hands in the opposite direction now, from shoulder to hip, leaning down to settle between her toned thighs as he pressed her legs further apart, opening her to his gaze.

 

“Hmmmm,” he murmured from below her, “I was right. Fucking perfect”

 

She felt herself twitch at his words, and the feel of his breath against her. A finger slid from just below her clit down her seam, and the tip brushed against her passage before she heard a little whimper from him. Then, two fingers were working their way inside her, while his thumb circled and pressed her aroused nub.

 

“You are so fucking wet, Hermione. So wet, and so hot. I can't wait to bury myself in this little cunt”

 

A small part, the little functioning part of her brain that was currently content to sit in the backseat, found it interesting that Lucius seemed to like talking dirty. It wasn't something she would have expected from the normally very controlled man. But the larger part of her brain, the part that was currently 10000% controlled by hormones, was completely turned on by his words, and she bucked against his hand as he finger fucked her.

 

“Lucius,” she hissed, unable and unwilling to control her response to him.

 

“Yes, Miss Granger?” he asked, though his voice had a strain that hadn't been there before.

 

“Get up here Lucius,” she ordered, grabbing his hair and yanking at it. He hissed back, his fingers twisting particularly harshly inside her, rubbing against something that made her eyes cross.

 

“What is it you want, Miss Granger?” his voice was barely controlled now, and she yanked on his hair again.

 

“You, Lucius. I want you to fuck me,” she demanded, trying to wriggle enough for him to get the point. He chuckled, leaning forwards to press a kiss at the now exquisitely sensitive nub at the top of her thighs, before removing his fingers and slithering back up her body.

 

She wasn't quite sure when his bathing suit had been removed, but she didn't really care as she felt him fall long and hard against her throbbing core. She pushed upwards, trying to guide him into her. He hovered over her a moment, stormy eyes staring into hers, before he lowered his mouth back onto her own. Flexing his his hips, he slid slowly, surely into her slick heat, until he was settled in her to the hilt. They both moaned then at the sensation, and she felt her walls quiver. This was not going to be a long session.

 

Lucius seemed to recognize it at the same time, and he twisted his hips experimentally back and forward. The coil that had started earlier twisted tighter, and she cried out against his mouth. He cursed then, and set a rapid pace, slipping a hand under her hips to lift her into his thrusts. With the new angle, every drive into hit that same spot his fingers had found before, and she cried out loud and wordlessly repeatedly. He responded in kind, grunting and groaning against her neck as he pumped into her strongly.

 

All too soon she felt herself climbing that nameless peak, and with one final push she was thrust over into ecstasy, screaming his name into the room. He followed immediately after, a cracked cry as he stilled within her. They lay together, catching their breath as their actions caught up to them, panting the only sound in the room. Lucius moved first, lifting up and hovering over her on his elbows, looking down into her eyes. Her brow furrowed in concern, before he lowered his mouth to hers again.

 

“I think, witch, we should try that again,” he murmured against her lips, “I'm quite certain we can do much better”

 


	22. Chapter 22

The first sensation Hermione identified when she woke up was heat. The body pressed against her back was warm, and causing her to become overheated with it's touch. The second sensation was the pressure of the arm wrapped tightly around her waist, holding her down against the bed, and securing her to her companion. And the third was the small puffs of air brushing against her neck, belying his still slumbering state.

 

She smiled, contentedly, wriggling back against him. It was warm, but she was also the most comfortable she'd been in a long time. Mentally, that was. Physically there were parts of her that ached that hadn't ached in quite some time. After their first, short intimacy, they had rapidly repeated the action to significantly more satisfactory results. And then done so again, multiple times over the course of the evening. Even after the potion had worn off, and they'd eaten and bathed, they'd still come back together several more times before the night was over. It was rather amazing that she wasn't more chafed, and that any of the penthouse had survived their rather robust lovemaking.

 

A muffled noise, and kisses peppering the back of her neck informed her that her bedmate was now awake, “Good morning, Lucius”

 

He moved, pressing himself closer to her, erection pushed against her backside, “Good morning”

 

“How are you feeling this morning?” she asked gently. He nibbled the juncture of her neck and shoulder, eliciting a whimper, and she felt his lips curve against her skin.

 

“I'll be better in just a few moments,” he murmured, reaching his hand down to the juncture of her thighs. She whined as his fingers found her entrance, and stroked her expertly.

 

“That's not fair,” she groused, arching her neck to allow him better access.

 

“I disagree. I believe it's playing to my strengths,” came the reply, as he moved his hand down, coaxing her thigh up and back even as he pressed his erection forward and up. She moaned wordlessly as she felt him sliding into her slightly swollen and sore core. He murmured soft, sweet words against her neck as he thrust shallowly into her, allowing her to become accustomed to him again.

 

“Mmmm, I believe I became well acquainted with those last night,” she answered airily, punctuated by a cry as he pressed the rest of the way in.

 

“Umf...Well, I intend on reacquainting you with them at every available opportunity,” he grunted back, before setting a slow, easy pace with his thrusting. There were no words then, just whines and groans as he deliberately built up their intensity, tracing his fingers around her clit purposefully, gradually increasing pressure until they both toppled into orgasm at the same time. Hermione shuddered against him, limbs twitching as she caught her breath.

 

Panting, Hermione turned in his arms, and kissed Lucius properly for the first time that morning. Smiling, she gazed into his eyes, and brought a hand up to stroke his cheek. His eyes crinkled as he looked back at her, and he leaned forward to place a chaste kiss on her lips, one of his hands squeezing her butt in contrast. She laughed a little and drew back.

 

As much as she didn't want to break the moment, or ruin whatever this was, she knew they were going t to need to talk. And her brain was excellent at ruining wonderful things by needing to know what, exactly was going on. It wanted definition. It wanted a name.

 

As if he could sense what she was thinking, Lucius shook his head, “Just let it be for now, Hermione”

 

She sighed, and pouted at him, and he laughed and leaned forward to kiss her again, sliding his tongue against the seam of her lips. She gave a disgruntled grunt, before opening her mouth and let him in. Allowing the kiss to heat up, she shifted so she was on top of him, breasts pressed against his chest, and she felt him stir at her hip.

 

“Already?” she asked, teasingly. She knew from the previous night that the older Malfoy had a relatively short refractory time, and was quite capable of going again quickly after a previous session. Not that she was complaining. He thrust up against her, and she shifted her legs to straddle him, rubbing her wet center against his cock.

 

The sound of the floo, and a voice calling from the other room caused them both to freeze. Hermione's eyes widened as she looked down at Lucius, who's face was now screwed up in a scowl of irritation. The voice came again, and Hermione hissed, “Fucking Thorfinn”

 

Lucius's eyes became dark as he glared at her, “Not right now you're not!”

 

She bit back a laugh at the comment, grinning fondly at him, before becoming aware of their predicament again. Not that she really felt the need to hide anything from their other investigator, but Thorfinn was not particularly known for his ability to gently handle situations such as this. He was the, perhaps cliched, bull in a china shop when it came to discretion.

 

Placing another kiss on Lucius's lips, she slid off his lap at his whine of annoyance and out of the bed. Looking around the room, she gave a chagrined sigh to realize the only clothing of hers was the bathing suit she'd worn the previous day, and a now rather disheveled bathrobe that was in two pieces across the floor. She pursed her lips and gave Lucius a look over her shoulder. He gave her a small smirk, before he stood gracefully out of the bed on the other side.

 

“I'll be out in a moment, Thorfinn,” he called. Hermione groaned, placing a hand on her forehead. Lucius grabbed a pair of black trousers from the floor, pulling them on and fastening as he walked towards her. She felt her cheeks flush – watching the man dress was not supposed to be so sexy. His smirk softened a bit, into a fond smile as he placed his hands on either side of her face and leaned forward to kiss her thoroughly. She moaned quietly in irritation as he pulled back, and he placed another kiss on her forehead before grabbing a shirt from the chair and walking out into the common area.

 

Hermione mulled over her choices for a moment – there was no way to dance around the fact that they'd spent the night together, given that she was going to be leaving from Lucius's room. However, leaving the room either nude or in clothes not her own was going to make it clear exactly what had been going on – namely that it had not been sleeping. She fretted a moment, before sighing and grabbing the button down shirt Lucius had been wearing the previous day and pulling it on with a pair of his boxers. There wasn't much that could be done for it now.

 

Rolling up her sleeves, she opened the door to the room to face the proverbial music with the large man who'd previously been her dirty little secret. What she didn't expect, however, was the other two men with him. Walden's eyebrows shot to his hairline as he took in her appearance, and Chester bestowed a friendly grin as she slipped out. Thorfinn cleared his throat, and her eyes landed on him, his arms crossed across his chest, expression quiet, but not pleased.  For all that he'd teased her about her relationship with Lucius in the recent past, she knew seeing proof of it was an entirely different matter, and Thorfinn didn't share well.  Not that she was his to share, but the big man certainly liked to mark things as his in his brain.  And since they'd been intimately acquainted in the past, so far as he knew, she was HIS.  The state they'd all been in when they parted ways the previous day probably didn't help the situation.

 

“Good morning, gentlemen,” she said confidently, trying to walk nonchalantly to her own room.

 

“Good morning, Hermione,” came Walden's appreciative voice. She gave him a weak smile.

 

“I'll be back with you all in just a moment. Just need to freshen up”

 

“And put on your own clothes,” came Thorfinn's reply, irritation present in his tone.

 

“Were these not mine?” she asked airily, “Huh. I didn't even notice” She slammed the door to her room behind her before he could answer.

 

She made short work of brushing her teeth, pulling on clean clothes and wrangling her hair into something acceptable before rejoining the others. She reflected internally that she seemed to be destined to spend her life around too many men.

 

Chester was the first to notice her, beaming another kind smile in her direction as she re-emerged. She returned it, and squeezed his shoulder as she joined them at the small kitchen table, “Feeling better?”

 

“Like a new man,” he answered, causing her heart to pang at his words.

 

“So, what were you two up to yesterday?” asked Thorfinn. Walden coughed on the sip of tea he'd just taken, and Lucius pounded him on the back while glaring at the long haired man.

 

“Research,” she blurted, and Walden laughed while coughing.

 

“Is that what they call it now?”

 

She scowled at the older man, before lifting her chin defiantly and glaring back at Thorfinn, daring him to say anything more. They may have had great sex, but their relationship was nothing if not volatile. They fought like crups and kneazles, which was one of many reasons why they had never ventured further than friends with benefits. She knew she was playing with fire, taunting him to say more, because there were even odds he would rise to the challenge. But after a long, tense moment, the larger man's shoulders dropped and he shook his head.

 

“Walden here came across some information regarding the other people involved in the attack the other night. He's been helping make some arrests and identifying persons of interest”came the subdued response.

 

Walden pulled out a photograph and tossed it on the table, causing Lucius and Hermione to lean forward to look at it more closely. The man pictured appeared in his late 40s with brown hair, dark eyes, and rather unremarkable features, “This is Benjamin Foster. He's been identified as someone highly invested in Dolohov's scheming here in the states. Word has it he's not local to LA, and just showed up a few days ago. But he and Antonin seemed very familiar with each other” He tossed down a second photograph, showing Dolohov handing something over to the other man.

 

“Fuck,” cursed Hermione. The object of interest was the stuffed bear, and the moving picture showed Foster shoving it into a bag before turning to leave their meetup point.

 

Walden nodded in agreement, “The last information I could gather said that he was getting on a plane this afternoon”

 

“Let me guess,” chimed in Lucius, annoyance evident in his drawl, “Savannah?”

 

Walden tapped the side of his nose, “That's where he was headed. However, further research” he passed an amused glance over to Hermione who blushed, but smirked back, “says that he lives further north. One of the Carolinas. So I can't be sure if Savannah is a stopping point, or the end of the journey”

 

“Wonderful,” Lucius groused, crossing his arms and leaning back in his seat. Thorfinn rumbled in agreement.

 

“So, we try to get the mirror tonight and then it's off to Savannah tomorrow,”summarized Hermione, chewing on her lower lip.

 

“The event tonight is very formal,” piped in Chester. Hermione raised an eyebrow at him, “The auction is for high end items and bidders. I wouldn't be surprised if Dolohov was in attendance to make sure everything goes smoothly”

 

“There's a dress code,” continued Thorfinn, “Black tie only”

 

“Fuck,” cursed Hermione again, and Walden nodded in agreement.

 

“I hate dressing up like a penguin,” the older man muttered.

 

“Are you all going to be there?” asked Hermione sharply, looking around at the others. Thorfinn exchanged a glance with Chester and nodded.

 

“The more eyes we have on the crowd, the more likely it's going to be that we spot Dolohov. I'll have backup in the local neighborhood to help, too”

 

“Even Chester?” she persisted, glancing nervously at the smaller man. He blushed a little and answered.

 

“Despite evidence to the contrary, I can actually take care of myself. The night of the rave was an anomaly. I got caught off guard because of the lights. This won't be the same,” he defended. She eyed him silently for a moment before nodding.

 

“I trust Thorfinn to keep you safe,” she answered, catching the bigger man's eye with her own, “Just don't try to be a hero against Dolohov. He's unhinged on a good day. If he thinks we're closing in on him, there's a good chance he'll be reckless and even more dangerous”

 

Placated, Chester nodded, and she leaned back again, “So, how's this going to go? Dress up like penguins, infiltrate swanky event, spend ungodly galleons to purchase a family heirloom, and plucky heroine in a dress catches the bad guy?”

 

Walden and Lucius chuckled, while Thorfinn scowled at her, “More or less. The auction preview starts at 6 pm. Bidding won't start until 8 or 9. We'll need to figure out if the mirror is real or a fake, and find Antonin. Buying mirror or stopping bad guy are interchangeable until both are done”

 

“Where are we meeting?” she asked.

 

“At headquarters around 5. We'll leave from there separately, but together”

 

“Is there anyone else we should be aware of?” asked Lucius, eyeing Walden and Thorfinn speculatively.

 

Walden tossed down two other pictures, one of a hispanic man with tattoos crawling up his neck and the other of a strikingly attractive blonde man, “These two are sort of the Crabbe and Goyle of this merry band of fuck ups. Not very bright, not very good with a wand, but they are as fanatical about their devotion as any other. We haven't managed to catch them yet, so they could show up”

 

Hermione nodded, reaching across the table to grab the pictures, “Mind if we keep these until tonight?”

 

Walden shrugged, “I've got copies”

 

With a vague plan decided, Walden and Chester took their leave via floo. Thorfinn waited behind, eyeing Lucius and Hermione closely. Hermioned raised an eyebrow at him, “Yes?”

 

Thorfinn pursed his lips, frowning, before sighing, “Just, be careful”

 

As the large man left the way he came, Hermione turned to Lucius, “That could have gone worse”

 

Lucius snorted and crossed the room, grabbing a wrist and pulling her towards him, “It looks like we have some time to kill”

 

She laughed, surprised at him, “You're incorrigible. I need a dress”

 

“And we can buy you a dress. In an hour. For now, I think we were interrupted”

 


	23. Chapter 23

Hermione slipped through the doors and across the patio to look out over the lights of Los Angeles below, glass of champagne dangling perilously in her fingers. She leaned against the glass barricade, taking in a deep breath of warm evening air. There was a faint breeze, but just enough to gently move the leaves and brush against skin without providing any relief. She furrowed her brow, watching the busy streets, before glancing up at the starless sky. She'd known about light pollution growing up near London, but after so many years of living in the wizarding world where electricity was rare, it was strange to look up and see nothing but the moon and the echoes of nighttime.

 

The choice of venue was eccentric, even for magical folks, though she supposed she should be used to it by now. A white mansion seated above the City of Angels, with a large conference room on the first floor set up to entertain guests and sell rare artifacts. It didn't take much effort to discern the elite of the elite in the crowd – those, much like Lucius, who carried themselves with effortless grace and a touch of snobbery. She knew that wasn't all of whom he was, and she understood that it was as much a reflection of his upbringing as it was the definition of who he was, but it still set her back up seeing him slip back into old habits. Habits that reminded her of why she had scars on her arms, and nightmares, and carried a little blue potion with her wherever she went.

 

Of course, she had to admit, there were some perks of his affluence. Notably, the incredibly expensive and decadent dress he'd purchased for her in the short hours before their evening affair. Floor length, white, charmeuse fabric imbued with thousands of tiny gemstones, it literally glittered in the light. Sleeveless, thought the front was modest, covering her chest up to her collarbones. The back, however, was open, from the nape of her neck and dipping to the curve just above her backside, exposing most of her skin. Two simple straps – one at the level of her shoulders and the other mid-back, held it together. The effect was sensual, and made her feel powerfully provocative without being cheap. Hair done up in an artfully messy chignon, and light make up allowed her to blend in with the rest of the crowd in attendance. Truthfully, she barely recognized herself, which was convenient for avoiding detection by the one person they were hunting.

 

She was feeling, however, completely out of her element trying to navigate the otherwise tricky social mires they'd found themselves in. Of course, the former death eaters were perfectly at home brown nosing with the best of them, having grown up knowing those particular rules from birth essentially. They were able to easily navigate conversations with people of a variety of backgrounds, asserting their dominance with simple phrases and weight of words. Hermione had learned some of the tricks as she'd gotten older, and had become better at working her way around the various pitfalls, but it always felt forced. And truthfully, it made her feel like she had during her earliest years at Hogwarts – an outsider, inept, completely incapable of surviving in their world.

 

She heard noise from the party pick up before quieting down, and glanced over her shoulder to see who had joined her on the patio. A small smile flitted across her lips to see Lucius striding over to her, consternation on his features, “I don't know how you ever survived as a spy”

 

He drew up short behind her, cocking his head to one side as he observed her face, “Oh?”

 

“Your emotions are all over your face,” she teased him. She felt him settle a little, one hand drifting down to land on her lower back.

 

“Hmmm. Perhaps I just don't feel the need to guard them around you,” he answered, tone light, though she could feel the weight of his words, testing. She sipped her champagne, considering her response.

 

“I suppose I should feel special, then,” she responded, eyes trained on his. His lips pursed slightly, and he tipped his head in concession.

 

“You are,” It was a statement. Her own mouth curved into a gentler smile, and she lifted her free hand to straighten his collar and brush her fingers against his jawline. He grasped it in his own hand, bringing it up to press the palm against his lips, the fingers on his other hand flexing against her bared skin, “So why are you hiding out here?”

 

She flinched, “I'm not terribly good at...that...” she gestured at the door.

 

“That?” he teased, “You mean mingling?”

 

“Mingling, kissing arse, making important people feel more important”she confessed, “I just always struggled with social interactions growing up. And then I was tossed into the deep end in a world I never knew existed when I was in my teens. It didn't make for easy integration”

 

Lucius scoffed, “Mingling is easy. You pretend that everyone is less important than you, and you ask a bare minimum of questions to get them talking so it seems like you care”

 

Hermione laughed, a short, breathy sound, “Wow, you certainly know how to make a girl feel special”

 

“Not you,” he huffed back, “You are important and I do care what you have to say”

 

Hermione raised an eyebrow at him. That was, perhaps, the closest to a declaration she could ever expect to get from him and it hadn't even taken any manipulation on her part to get him to admit it, “Well, the feeling is mutual”

 

His fingers flexed on her lower back again, and then with a clever smirk he dipped them down to squeeze her butt briefly before moving it back up again, “Have I mentioned how divine you look in that dress tonight?”

 

“No, but please. I'm all ears” she grinned back at him. He took a step closer, leaning over her.

 

“I can't wait to take it off you later” he murmured, leaning down to capture her lips in a searing kiss. She moaned against his mouth, grasping a bicep in her free hand.

 

“Is this a private party, or are we actually working here?” came the sharp voice from across the patio. Lucius groaned as he pulled back, pressing his forehead against hers before he stepped away.

 

“We're working, of course” called back Hermione, looking over at their colleagues. Thorfinn was dressed in a suit with a white jacket and black slacks and bowtie, his long hair carefully tied up in a bun at the back of his head. Chester had chosen a black tuxedo with red waistcoat, and Walden had chosen to go with white and a royal blue accents. She had to admit, they all looked quite dashing, which hadn't missed the eye of most of the women present.

 

“Are you sure? Because I don't see anyone else out here. Which is unfortunate, since I'm pretty certain we're looking for a criminal....” continued Thorfinn. Hermione pursed her lips and glared at him.

 

“I came out here for a breath of air, Thorfinn. Lucius followed to make sure I was ok. We were just returning,” she answered in a measured tone.

 

“We were?” asked Lucius, quiet enough the others couldn't hear. She pinched him on his back where the others couldn't see, pleased to see him flinch a little at her force.

 

“Well, the auction starts in 15 minutes and I still haven't put eyes on Dolohov,” came the reply. Hermione frowned.

 

“We knew there was a chance he wouldn't be here,” she responded, walking back towards the main house.

 

“His name is on the guest list,” replied Macnair with a shrug.

 

“That seems...either singularly stupid, or like an entirely too obvious set up” she said, frowning.

 

“Probably the latter,” shrugged Thorfinn, downing a glass of champagne in on gulp before placing the empty flute on a nearby table, “Antonin never does things on accident”

 

“So that means he knew we were going to be here”

 

“Well, I mean, we did break into his room and rifle through his stuff. It's unlikely he wouldn't know we're on to him” came Thorfinn's bland answer.

 

Hermione ground her teeth in irritation, “So is he here to make sure the mirror gets sold or is he here to confront us?”

 

“Definitely the former, but likely prepared for the latter”

 

“If he gets away this evening, I think it's safe to say he's not going to go to Savannah. This is probably our last chance to catch him,” warned Macnair. Hermione took in a deep breath,closing her eyes and turning her face up towards the sky to gather patience. As she let it out slowly she opened her eyes, scanning back down. A small movement caught her eye on the second story, and she narrowed her eyes at it.

 

A dark haired man, dressed in a black tuxedo, was leaning on the large window frame, staring at them. She couldn't make out his features, but he raised a glass mockingly at her, before pushing back and disappearing back into the crowd.

 

“Fuck!” she exhaled.

 

“What?” exclaimed Lucius and Thorfinn simultaneously.

 

“Dolohov. He was just there. At that window” she pointed up, “At least I'm pretty sure it was him”

 

“What did he do?” demanded Lucius.

 

“Saluted us,” she ground back, grabbing the side of her skirt and stalking back towards the house.

 

“Wait, Princess. We need a plan,” called Thorfinn, grabbing her elbow. She stopped, glaring down at where his hands touched her, and then back up at his face. He dropped her arm, lifting his hands in front of his body.

 

“Lucius needs to be present for the auction. Getting the mirror is our number on priority. We cannot let it end up in the wrong hands,” he started. Hermione deflated a touch, and nodded sharply.

 

“But if we don't get Dolohov now, it's could set us very far back in this No-Maj mess too,” countered Chester.

 

“So, we split up. Lucius goes to the Auction. Chester, you and Thorfinn go to the top level and see if you can find him. Walden, you go to the lower levels. I think I saw a stairwell headed down to a basement on the bottom floor. It's probably not large, but someone should look at it. I'll check the main floor and second level and see if I can suss him out,” directed Hermione. She paused, reaching into her bag and pulling out three coins similar to the ones she'd handed to Lucius the night at the warehouse, “If you find him, call for help. We don't want him getting away again”

 

The men nodded and split up, following their respective routes. The main floor was an open floor plan, and the rooms adjacent to the conference room were relatively empty given how close it was to the main event. She stealthily opened two doors at the end of the hall that had been locked, checking their dark depths briefly before moving on the second floor.

 

The second story had a simple layout. Open landing at the top of the stairs before they curved around to the third level. Across the landing was a single hallway lined with doors on one side, and windows looking out over the back patio on the other. Cautiously, she opened and examined each room, wand lifted and at the ready in case the Russian man tried to surprise her. The first was a bedroom. The second was a closet. The third room was a bathroom. The fourth another bedroom, this one with an already amorous couple taking advantage of the rather decadent bed in the middle of it. Wincing and closing the door before they noticed her, she checked the next two rooms – another bedroom and another bathroom.

 

Sighing, she pulled the coin out of the edge of her dress where she'd stuffed it, hoping to see something from the others. There hadn't been any warmth, but it was an old habit that was hard to break. Nothing. Cold and dark in her hand. She could hear the echoes of a PA system below – or perhaps, more likely, a sonorous being used – and reluctantly decided to join Lucius. If the others needed help, they would call. Straightening up, she tucked the coin back away in her dress, and turned to head back towards the stairs.

 

At the end of the hallway, stood Dolohov, wand in one hand and champagne glass in the other. She had to admit, he cleaned up nicely in his black suit and tie. It was almost perverse that someone who was so well coifed was so dangerous. Her heart clenched for a moment, knowing he was blocking her only available exit. She fumbled with the coin again, whispering into it before she slipped her wand out of the secret pocket on the skirt of her dress.

 

A low chuckle filtered down the row, the hairs on the back of her neck standing up at it's tone. She rubbed her fingers against each other, willing them to stop sweating as she waited for him to make his move.

 

“Hermione Granger. So we meet again”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long delay, and the short chapter. Will try to get the next one done a little faster(and a little longer)!


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, my muse got distracted and decided to go wandering off for a bit. She's vaguely restrained now, but there should be some more chapters coming soon. Sorry to leave you all hanging so long!

Hermione took a deep breath in, facing the one man who'd managed to infiltrate her dreams, twisting them into nightmares. She'd had the normal anxieties after the War, and had lived with PTSD for years, manifesting in so many different ways until it finally had boiled down to one. Nightmares. Antonin's face in the Department of Mysteries sometimes featured in her subconscious memories, putting him in times and places that she knew he'd never been. But, her real dread had grown out of penseive memories she'd witnessed, exhibiting him in action and the results of his deeds. Dolohov was cruel without conscience, vicious without mercy, precise without doubt. Antonin Dolohov was the boogeyman.

 

He chuckled at the change in her posture, turning to his left and placing his flute on the banister next to him, “I'd like to say I'm surprised to see you here, but I knew you couldn't stay away”

 

She couldn't control the revulsion that took over her features, “Don't flatter yourself, Dolohov”

 

He took a step towards her, the motion steady and measured, like a predator moving in on his prey. Hermione knew, instinctively, she was going to have to fight him. But if she could keep him talking long enough, she might be able to wait out until they had help on hand. Licking her lips, she took a calculated step backwards, hoping to draw him in. The grin on his face told her he'd taken the bait.

 

“Oh, come now, we've made such beautiful art together in the past,” he motioned in a slash, mimicking the scar that lined her from shoulder to hip bone, “Imagine what we could do with a little more time”

 

She clamped her teeth together, swallowing the bile that threatened to rise in the back of her throat, “Art? Is that what you call it?”

 

He shrugged, continuing to stalk down the hall, “Some people use paint, some people use clay. I prefer blood. It's so...”

 

“Permanent?” she answered dryly, unable to control her tongue. Antonin laughed richly at her, and she shivered in repulsion at the sound.

 

“Expressive,” he answered, pausing in his advance, “It is the ultimate medium. You are literally using life essence to create”

 

“I'm not sure your victims share your enthusiasm, Dolohov,” she replied, lifting her wand. He was about half way down the hall, and in spite of her hopes that she wouldn't have to face him alone, she was beginning to accept that her only way out would be to fight him and finish their feud for good.

 

“Of course they do. They quiver in excitement, mewl in ecstasy, pant for release,” his voice dropped a shade, taking on a husky quality she recognized as arousal, “Even your parents”

 

Hermione blinked, sucking in a harsh breath as a feeling like cold water had been poured down her spine. She'd known she would never get them back, but she'd sent them away to be safe. To be free of the dark world she'd chosen to live in, chosen to fight for. She'd tried to guarantee they would never be targeted but somehow...Somehow this monster, this sadist, this man beyond reason had found them. And had not only killed them, but tortured them. And for what reason? The war was long over, her parents no longer knew who she was, they never had returned home. They were no threat to anyone, least of all him.

 

Her hands shook as she lifted her wand to head level, ready to strike, “I'm not going to kill you Dolohov,” she promised.

 

He laughed another full, rich sound, before lifting his own wand, “Yes you will. Whether by your wand, or your vote, you will kill me. And it will be much faster than what I did”

 

She let out deliberate breath, stepping back once more, inviting him in closer. She just had to wait another moment, just had to box her parents up for a few more minutes and not focus on their death. If she could just wait, she could avenge them forever. Dolohov grinned larger as he saw her move.

 

“Where is your courage now, Granger?” he sneered, “In the arms of your lover, perhaps? I wonder what Lucius would think of his brave lioness running away from a fight”

 

“Not running,” she countered, trying to keep him engaged, “More like slowly escaping”

 

“There is no escape, girl. This is the end,” he growled back. Hermione stopped, straightening her back up, and nodding.

 

“You're right. There is no escape,” she agreed, before stabbing her wand forward viciously. Dolohov clasped his hand over his swelling eyes with a cry, before his body stiffened, and he fell face forward on the ground, twitching. Hermione blinked in surprise, looking up over him to her savior. Chester was beaming a grin at her, wires extending from a small box in his hand to the Russian man's back.

 

“Tazer,” he said, unprompted, “See? I can handle my own”

 

Hermione tried to laugh, but a sob ripped out of her throat instead as she dropped to the floor. Lucius arrived at that moment, rushing down past the Detective and downed man to gather her into his arms. He wrapped her in his embrace, stroking her hair, gently hushing her.

 

“My parents,” she whimpered into his shoulder, his arms tightening around her. He gently lifted her to her feet, holding her in his embrace.

 

“Call Draco,” he ordered into her ear, “We'll find them”

 

She huddled at the conference table, Lucius' blazer around her shoulders, rapidly cooling cup of tea in her hand as she stared at a knot in the oak table. Her eyes traced the lines to it, around, and away, unable to regain her focus on anything but the simple structure of lignin and cellulose. It was soothing, in a manner, uncluttered and natural in it's pattern.

 

The door clicked open, and she felt more than saw the new occupant rush to her side. Warm arms were wrapped around her shoulders, and her face was pressed against a shirt that smelled like linen, with a faint woody aura. She burrowed her cheek against the planes of his chest, looping her free arm around his waist and tugging him closer.

 

“Are you ok?”

 

She shook her head against him, before pulling back and looking up into green eyes, “Have you heard anything?”

 

Harry shook his head guiltily, “Not yet, but Draco is working on it. We'll know within the hour”

 

She nodded, whispering, “I don't want to believe him, but I'm afraid he's telling the truth”

 

“We hid them really well, Hermione. You know that better than anyone,” he answered, placing his hands on her shoulders. Her lips pressed into a grim line.

 

“Maybe not. You know Dolohov. If he wanted it, he found a way to get it”

 

There was another click and she peered around Harry's torso, giving a faint smile to Lucius as he entered the room, concerned expression on his face, “Have they found anything?”

 

Harry turned and sat into the chair next to her, keep an arm across her shoulders, “Not yet”

 

Lucius crossed the room, sitting in the chair on her other side, eyes watching her closely, “We'll find them”

 

Hermione sighed then, tipping her head back, “You all don't have to keep trying to placate me. I always knew this was a risk”

 

Lucius reached out, taking her left hand between his own, “Knowing the risk, and having it happen are two very different realities”

 

She could feel Harry's eyes burning into the side of her head, and she studiously ignored him, choosing to squeeze Lucius's hand with her own instead, “Thank you”

 

He nodded before releasing her hand and leaning back in his chair, steepling his fingers together, “Dolohov is still unconscious, but they expect him to be awake shortly”

 

Hermione snorted, “Only to be beaten back into a stupor again”

 

Lucius winced, and she heard Harry snort next to her, “I would imagine he will have some unexpected bruises when he's finally interrogated”

 

As the door opened again, Hermione shot up, hovering over her seat at the appearance of the younger Malfoy. His expression was somber, and he held up a hand to her. She froze before slowly sinking back down into her chair, color draining from her own face.

 

“We found them,” he announced. Harry grabbed her hand in his, and she gripped the lifeline strongly.

 

“And?” she prompted, half whispering.

 

“They're alive,” he replied, and she let out a tight breath, “A little confused, but they're alive.

 

“Confused?” she asked. Draco nodded, rubbing his hand up the back of his head.

 

“Someone did get to them. They were moved from where you'd last left them to across the country. Been set up with a new practice, but apparently whoever did it did a shoddy job. They kept mixing up their current location with their previous, got lost a lot. Your father was undergoing testing for memory issues,” he replied, and Hermione let out a soft laugh.

 

“Well, some of that might be normal. Dad was always a little forgetful minded,” she replied, and Harry squeezed her hand, “It also means Dolohov never touched them”

 

Draco nodded, letting out a long breath of his own, “Yes, but it was too close. We're going to assign them a detail”

 

“I can't ask that,” she protested weakly, “Maybe we could encourage them to move again”

 

“No,” answered Harry from her side, “If they want to find them, they will. Your parents need protection, not just to get moved around again”

 

“You are a war hero, Hermione,” replied Draco, “You deserve some peace of mind”

 

She sat quietly a moment before nodding her head, “It would make me feel much better to know they're being watched after when I can't be there”

 

“It's already done,” he replied, small smile on his lips, “Besides, it'll be a highly sought after position. Mostly babysitting, not a lot of fighting, and getting to say you know Hermione Granger's parents? The newbies will be fighting over it”

 

Harry chuckled next to her, squeezing her hand again before releasing it, “Sounds like you're envious”

 

Draco shrugged, “Maybe I am. Maybe I wouldn't mind spending some time in Australia”

 

Hermione shook her head, “You wouldn't last five minutes, Draco”

 

He scoffed in return, “They're muggles”

 

“They're also teeth healers,” she answered, “They cut into teeth to help heal them. I know how much tooth stuff freaks you out. One turn of the high powered drill and you'd be heading for the hills while puking”

 

His pale face became even whiter, and Harry chuckled next to her, “You wouldn't last a minute, Malfoy”

 

Draco scowled, before brushing imaginary lint off his cuff, “We'll see about that”

 

“Draco, it took two house elves to get you to brush your teeth until you were eleven,” came Lucius's amused drawl to her left, and Hermione laughed out loud.

 

“Fine. I see how it is. Everyone pick on Draco,” he scoffed back, “I do have other news, too”

 

“What's that?” prodded Hermione.

 

“Dolohov is awake. Thorfinn wanted to wait to do any further interrogation until you were present. Thought you might appreciate it,” he replied, wicked smirk on his face. Hermione returned the look.

 

“Will I get to do any interrogation of my own?” she asked, and the smirk became a feral grin.

 

“I have been assured you will be allowed your turn, too”

 

“Lead the way, then” she answered, standing up out of her seat. Turning back to Lucius she removed his coat from her shoulders, holding it back out to him. His fingers brushed hers gently as he took it, and she recognized it for the subtle comforting gesture it was. Draco snorted across the room, and Hermione turned to glare at him sharply.

 

“Get a room you two,” he mocked, and Hermione favored him with a two finger salute.

 

“Actually, we already have one,” came the composed response from Lucius, and Draco's eyebrows raised towards his hairline. Before he could come up with a quip, Hermione gestured towards the door.

 

“No. Not right now. Not when we could be torturing Dolohov instead of me,” she ordered. Draco chuckled, exiting with Harry behind him. Lucius fell into stride with her outside of the room, gently resting a hand on her lower back as they followed the younger two men through a maze of corridors towards the interrogation rooms. She felt overdressed, the gauzy dress out of place in the enforcement offices, but hadn't had the will to change while waiting on word of her parents.

 

As they passed the normal interrogation rooms, she felt a small twist of satisfaction that Dolohov wasn't going to leave this place unharmed. Their trek terminated at the end of a long, empty hallway with a single door and window. A brief glance showed no sign of technology, no way to hear what was happening inside the room without actually being in it. Thorfinn stepped through the metal door to greet them as they arrived, wiping a fist off with a small towel.

 

“Started without us?” asked Hermione, brow arching. He shrugged unapologetically.

 

“We have a lot of history to catch up on,” he answered vaguely, and she leaned around him to look at the dark haired man through the window. His left eye was swollen shut and the skin around it bloomed with purple, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.

 

“Did you do any questioning while you were catching up?” she asked, and he favored her with a withering glare.

 

“Of course. The ass kicking was just a bonus,” he answered. She nodded tightly, before gesturing.

 

“May I?” she asked. He grasped the knob, twisting it before looking back at her.

 

“Just remember, he's a master manipulator. Don't let anything he says go to your head,” he warned. She smirked.

 

“He already overplayed his hand once. He won't get to do it a second time”

 


End file.
